Mara, Brown Rider, First Scoring
by Pern Dreamer
Summary: A thirty-one turn woman impressed brown Klamath two turns ago.  Sequel to Mara, Weyrling Brown Rider which is still being added to slowly .  Time frame is the 7th month of year 2555 to 1.1.2556 AL Aivas Adjusted Time .  COMPLETE!
1. First Scoring

This is a sequel, if you will, to Mara's Story, which will also be updated as my muses dictate. If you have trouble accepting a female brown rider, try reading Mara's Story first; maybe then it will be a bit more realistic (in a Pernese fashion).

Disclaimer: Pern still isn't mine. If it was I wouldn't have to listen to other people reminding me that it isn't. I have borrowed some of Anne McCaffrey's wonderful characters and sincerely hope I'm causing no damage to their reputations.

Rated T for later suggestive mating scenes, both dragon and human.

* * *

Mara was ecstatic! Flying Thread in a fighting wing for Benden Weyr was more invigorating than almost anything she could imagine (her weyrmate being the only notable exception). She and brown Klamath had been the first in her weyrling class to be assigned to a true fighting wing. Her biggest shock had been the wingleader who had chosen her; she had been certain from the time they first met that he despised her in every way, and even more so since she impressed a big, beautiful, and strong brown dragon.

In the two months since joining this wing, Mara and Klamath had moved steadily up from the lowest and safest position in the wing to their present position; now, after just two months, they flew with the majority of the other browns of the wing. Most of her class now flew in the fighting wings; one had become pregnant and flew with the golds only near Benden, and one had been too young and was currently apprenticing at Fort Hold's Healer Hall.

She and Klamath were one being, a Thread fighting unit. She knew his next move before its execution, he knew her thoughts even as they were born, she felt his muscles adjust to the currents, he felt her adjust to each of his movements, and she felt his need for firestone even as he did. Their telepathic and empathic connection was nothing special among dragonriders, though the level of their connection could have been compared with the most experienced of riders. From the time of impression, both dragon and rider had shared an enthusiasm for learning about, from, and with each other. Their enthusiasm had often caused problems in weyrling training; their excitement in learning had often resulted in their being first to achieve and even perfect most tasks.

As Klamath scorched yet another small clump of Thread understandably missed by those above, Mara reached into the two sacks of firestone draped across his back before her knees. As Klamath turned his head back to her, even as he coasted back into their assigned position, Mara tossed first one then the other piece into his open mouth while keeping her eyes on the sky ahead and above them. Another reach into the sacks and two more tosses, and Klamath turned his furiously working muzzle back forward as he veered up and right for the clump Mara had sighted.

They seldom bespoke each other during Thread fall, both preferring to listen to all the other dragons in the flight. Mara had also been tasked by the Weyrleader himself with keeping her 'ears' open for anything he should be aware of, from riders as well as dragons. Ever since actively listening to people just prior to impressing Klamath, she had never been able to completely push back the thoughts of other people, so had come to terms with the volatile extremes and inconsistencies that could present themselves in any human's supposedly private thoughts. To preserve her own sanity, she had learned rather quickly to ignore most of those thoughts; an angry or wicked thought often seemed to cool a person's temper, and a lustful thought was often nothing more than ancient animal instinct usually ignored even by the thinker.

_Be alert!_ Mnementh alerted all the dragons._ The air is warming. Clumps are breaking up at higher altitude. And winds are increasing._

Mara heard the great bronzes' warning; Klamath knew it so did not repeat the message as other dragons would need to for their riders. Mara was one of three currently at Benden Weyr who could hear all the dragons; Lessa, the weyrwoman, and Brendeen, a junior weyrwoman-in-training were the other two fortunate riders.

Brown dragon and rider listened patiently as each of the other dragons relayed the warning, and notified their wingleaders that the message had been received. They listened as well as most dragons requested more firestone, and Mara listened as riders soothingly obliged their life-mates.

Mara and Klamath both heard one dragon ask more pleadingly for more firestone. Mara heard the rider refuse, his exact thought being 'We'll get her this time.' She looked up and ahead toward the left, where B'rand and Tagamarth had been moved just last fall.

In less time than a single heartbeat from start to finish, she saw bronze Tagamarth, eyes orange and red, head turned back to his rider, hit by a sheet of writhing, windblown Thread. They blinked into between even as Tagamarth screamed, and the sheet of Thread that hit the bronze straight-on now blew over her and Klamath.

Mara, out of some ridiculously insane instinct, leaned forward in an attempt to protect her huge brown dragon. They were both hit with Thread even as she thought _Home, now, love!_

The burn of the acid Thread was brief. The cold of between killed the burn, but not the sensation of pressure caused by skin no longer where it should have been. When they blinked out of between high over Benden Weyr, both felt the pain of destroyed nerves just below what had once been skin level. Both let out slow pained groans.

_We need to go back!_ Klamath was adamant.

Mara did a quick assessment of their conditions and found no damage below skin level. _Firestone?_

_Please._

Mara fed him more firestone as they glided, both admiring the beauty of their home far below, both wishing they could go to their weyr, both knowing work still had to be done.

_Ready!_ said Klamath.

_Two lengths back. Let's go, then!_

The cold of between, this time, numbed even the aching nerves now exposed to the void. Mara quickly squelched a desire to stay a bit longer, resolutely holding her last vision of their position in her mind's eye.

They blinked out of between two dragon-lengths behind their last position. Mara noticed a void in the sheet of Thread before them and knew they would be scolded again, if anyone else noticed; the void was dragon shaped, just about Klamath's size, and had not dissipated at all in the very short time they had been gone.

_Duck!_ Klamath raised his long neck and began flaming the sheet of Thread that had nearly engulfed them both. As his flame sputtered, he dove down, back, around and back up to very near his last flame. A new breath drawn, he flamed again. He continued this maneuver until the sheet was almost nonexistent and they flew far too close to the blue beneath them.

_Can you handle the rest, Simoneth?_ Mara seldom used her ability to bespeak dragons during Threadfall, but this seemed an appropriate use.

_Yes. T'mith and I thank you both._

_Mara!_ All wingleaders had been trained in the use of telepathy, but their wingleader was one of the most capable.

_Yes, sir!_

_You and Klamath take B'rand's position._

_Yes, sir!_ Moving up another position should have brought pride, but Mara felt only anger, which she quickly moved to the back of her mind in order to focus more intently on the job at hand.

Flying in a bronzes' position would have been taxing on almost any other brown, but Klamath took it in stride. He was nearly as big as the bronzes in his class and could outperform any of them. Weyrlingmaster L'ret had teased that the oil she used on his hide affected his mentality. Mara and Klamath both knew otherwise; they each had a burning desire to be among the very best at Benden Weyr and practiced every free waking moment they could.

The remainder of fall was mostly uneventful. A few recent graduates suffered minor scores and were sent back to Benden. One more experienced blue rider jarred his shoulder while catching a sack of firestone, but there were no more major injuries. Mara knew from her listening that Tagamarth would recover quickly and that B'rand had been untouched.

As fall ended, Mara's anger resurfaced. As her wing descended into Benden's bowl, the wingleader directed her and Klamath to land near the healers still set up near the western wall.

_Keep your wings spread, my love. The healers will tend them for you._

Their landing was almost flawless.

Mara removed her full face mask and tossed it down to a waiting weyrling with a grateful nod. She deftly caught a large covered pot of numbweed tossed up from one of the healers, opened it, and began slathering the top of Klamath's neck and ridges. He had been flaming downward when they were hit, so only a small portion of his neck had been scored.

Long tables were quickly moved to just under the leading edges of her brown's wings and healers began applying numbweed to the small scores there.

Mara unfastened her riding straps and spun around to cover Klamath's back. He had only taken Thread to about midway down his back, so she was able to reach most of it. Another healer expertly walked along his ridges from a ladder near his tail to treat what Mara couldn't reach.

When she felt no more pain from her beloved Klamath, Mara tossed the pot of numbweed to waiting hands below and slid to the ground.

_I have something I need to care of, Klamath._

_Hit him once for me, beautiful._

Several healers approached as Mara hit the ground. One reached out a hand to take her arm. "Your turn, rider" he smiled.

Mara snatched her arm away from the young man. "Not right now." On seeing fear in the youngster's face, she closed her eyes and forced a smile. "Thank you all for your kind help with Klamath."

He reached out again, but she avoided his grasp. "Not . . . right . . . now." She pushed her way through the others. "Excuse me, please."

The angry brown rider removed her gloves and tried to stow them in her recently finished belt; it broke, so she let it fall to the ground along with her gloves. She found B'rand as he was walking toward the main cavern of the weyr, riding harness in his arms. "B'rand!" she bellowed as she strode resolutely in his direction. Other riders between them cleared a path, but Mara could only see the person who had caused her beautiful Klamath to be scored by Thread.

B'rand stopped in his tracks. He belligerently threw his dragon's harness to the ground before turning around, wearing a smug smile. "Yes, brown rider?"

Mara never slowed down. Her hands wrapped themselves into the shoulders of his riding tunic and she threw him to the ground, kneeling over him as they both landed with a thud. "How dare you refuse to feed your dragon firestone?" She lifted his upper body with her hold on his tunic and slammed him to the ground again. "How dare you risk my Klamath?" She lifted and slammed again. "How dare you risk all the riders and dragons below your position?"

Bronze rider B'rand's smugness soon changed to fear and then to righteous anger. He managed to grab her wrists and tried to push her off - with no effect. "Get off me, woman!" Fear returned quickly.

Mara laughed. "I'll bet you've heard that a few times." She lifted and slammed again.

B'rand, unable to budge the woman holding him down, began frantically looking from side to side. Riders of all ranks were standing around, watching. He grew more angry and frightened and tried to knee her in the back.

She slammed him again.

He tried swinging at her face. His arms weren't long enough. "GET OFF ME, YOU BEAST!"

Mara, with a ferocious scowl contorting her face, let go with her right hand, slowly lifted a fist into the air and slammed it down to the ground next to his face.

He squealed in terror.

Riders and others standing around the pair laughed as B'rand flailed arms and legs trying to remove the highly agitated large woman from his pinned much lighter frame.

B'rand started pleading. "Get her off me! Please! Get her off me!" And then inspiration struck, or so he thought. "GET THIS SHARDING UGLY HERD BEAST OFF ME!" He realized his judgment error almost instantaneously.

The crowd collectively gasped and then went silent. The scowl on Maras' face became a hate filled, victorious, hissing snarl. As she raised her fist into the air again, B'rand screamed and closed his eyes.

Mara was oblivious to anything but the smug little man she had pinned to the ground. She could feel Klamaths' presence, observing passively with a tinge of angry humor. She was amazed at the surge of power she was feeling. It felt so good! Was this what her sire had felt when he so often hit her and her brothers? She raised her fist a second time to put this tiny insect out of its misery. But something stopped her. Someone was holding her arm and stretching it skyward. How dare they? She roared in fury. "Aaaggghhh!" Her left hand now clenched into a fist, she pushed off the ground and began to swing at her holder. Almost too late, she recognized Weyrleader F'lar. How could he be such a fool? She stopped her swing and roared again. "Aagghh!" And then noticed he was saying something. She lowered her left fist to her side and glowered at him. How dare he? And then she found herself wondering 'what's he saying?' She took a deep breath through flared nostrils and, with teeth tightly clenched, let it out as slowly as she could manage.

F'lar caught her wrist on her deliberately slow and purposefully melodramatic up-swing. He was amazed at the strength of this woman. She had lost a great deal of her bulky muscle during her first year of weyrling training, but what muscle remained was surprisingly efficient. He was fiercely determined that she not see him strain to hold her wrist. He bellowed "Enough!" When she roared and began an up-swing with her left arm, he bellowed again. "Mara!" He refused to defend himself, holding her wrist steady in front of his chest. She wouldn't dare strike her weyrleader, he hoped. When she stopped her swing and roared again, with less vehemence, he bellowed one more time. "I said enough!" As she slowly lowered her still clenched fist to her side, he couldn't help but notice that bronze rider B'rand was crying like a baby beneath the two of them. Maintaining strong eye contact with her, he ordered the bystanders "Get him to the healers!" His legs were kicked several times as the crying man fought those trying to help him. When she took a deep breath and let it out a little too quickly, he shook her wrist and spoke to her more quietly, but with just as much authority. "Enough, Rider!" Her chin lifted in defiance, but she took another breath and let it out more slowly. Her challenging glare waivered just slightly. After several heartbeats, she slowly opened the fist he held between them. Her chin lowered, but wide eyes maintained their glare.

Mara stared at her weyrleader. Now, what was she supposed to do? She had never been so angry in all her thirty-three turns. She never knew so much anger was even possible! So, now what? Apologize? Not a chance! That fool had risked far more than just her and Klamath. He deserved far worse that what she had been about to deliver. But, then there was poor Tagamarth. It wasn't his fault his rider was such a thoughtless dead-glow. But he wasn't a dead-glow; he had planned this! How long had he been planning and waiting for the chance to do this? How long had he been hiding his hatred of Mara from everyone in the Weyr? Mara knew he was an angry young man, but how had she missed this? She blinked long and hard trying to think. And then F'lar's grip loosened. She opened her eyes and concentrated on what he was saying.

"Is this over, now?"

"This is far from over, sir!" Her eyes were nearly level with his.

F'lar remembered too late that she had a very literal mind, so chose a different question. "Do you have control of yourself?"

Mara took a deep breath, trying to steady the adrenalin induced shaking that was quickly overtaking all her muscles. She let that breath escape slowly through her nose, and took another more shallow breath. As her breathing became more regular, she felt the shaking dissipate, and was finally able to answer with honesty. "Yes, Weyrleader." She bowed her head more deeply than she would normally like, and allowed her eyes to fall to his chest.

"Good! Now, go to the healers." He pushed her wrist toward her shoulder, causing her to turn back in the right direction.

"Klamath?" She turned wide, now frightened eyes to her now smiling weyrleader's eyes. Had she lost contact with her life-mate?

"No, rider." He clapped a hand none too gently onto her nearly bare back. "You, go see the healers!"

A quick intake of air brought back her memory as her eyes scanned the sky for clouds. A slow release of that air caused a very long "Oooohhhhh" as one foot tried to move forward. Quick hands from nearby riders kept her on her feet and headed in the right direction.

"Causing trouble again, are you little brown rider?" Wingleader F'nor could be so irritatingly patronizing sometimes.

Mara turned her head to the condescending man holding her nearly bare arm. "Oh, that hurt." And then the bareness of her arm hit her consciousness. "Where's my riding tunic?" A low bass rumble from her other side caused her head to turn, but she couldn't hold it up just yet, so did notice that the front of her tunic was still in place.

"You left almost half of it between with the Thread that ate it!"

"Oh." She managed to look up at her loving, but not currently amusing weyrmate. "That was a new tunic, G'raden!"

F'nor laughed from her other side. "And that's why most of us don't put fancy stitching on our fighting tunics, little brown rider!"

Mara, not willing to turn her head again, scowled instead at her tall grinning weyrmate.

G'raden rumbled again, even as concern bathed his eyes. "Here we are, Mara. Have a seat."

"Where?"

"Just bend your knees, love. We won't let you fall."

"Oh. Right." She did as instructed and landed on a stool. Cold goop near the base of her spine helped her to sit straight up.

G'raden chuckled as he sat on another stool in front of her, his legs straddling her knees. "It's all right, love. Most of your beauty is still covered."

One half of Mara's mouth went up as her brow furrowed in disbelief and embarrassment. _Klamath, dear? Are you all right?_

_I'd feel much better if you had hit him._

"Oh." Bits and pieces of her rage induced attack began replaying in her memory. Another glob of cold goo slopped those memories and consciousness away.

G'raden chuckled again as he caught and held her under her arms, and guided her head to rest on his shoulder.

"Hmph" said F'nor. "Guess I'll have to find someone else to help with the weyrlings after noon meal." When G'raden only laughed, he grew more serious. "Take her home, if they'll let you. She did a good job this day, far better than I ever expected."

"I'll let her know."

"Don't you dare! I'll tell her . . . when the time is right." He changed the subject quickly. "Who's taking care of your wing, G'raden?"

"Not our rotation this day, and you did such a good job, we weren't even needed for backup. My seconds can handle the rest of this day."

"Hmph." F'nor scanned G'raden's face like a proud father might scan his son's. He clapped a hand on the younger rider's free shoulder. "Good job, G'raden."

G'raden had no trouble smiling sincerely at his long-time defender. Until two turns ago, he had undergone quite a bit of teasing for even bringing G'raden to Benden Weyr. Two turns ago, though, G'raden had found the missing pieces that finally made him a complete dragonrider and a complete man. "Thanks to you, F'nor." The man before him deserved all his thanks and so much more.

F'nor grunted, but smiled as he briefly ran a hand over Mara's sweat-plastered wavy hair. "She really is a phenomenon."

G'raden raised his brows suggestively. "Yes, sir!"

Wingleader F'nor's laughter could be heard throughout the Weyr. Wingleader T'men, bathing his bronze Reyuth, stopped to lean against his beloved life-mate. _I really dislike the thought of leaving Benden Weyr._

_As do I, but . . ._ Reyuth didn't finish his thought, but crooned at his rider's laughter.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed it! More excitement to come!

As always, reviews provide motivation!


	2. What's the Score?

'Dragonriders of Pern' still belongs to Anne McCaffrey. I keep wishing, but . . .

* * *

Mara woke several candle-marks later face down on what she hoped was her and G'raden's bed. A slight draft blew across her bare back and . . . bare backside.

_Klamath, love? Are you all right?_

_Very numb, just like you._

_Good. No pain, my brave one?_

_No pain, my lovely rider._

"Ha!" Mara absolutely loved compliments, but comments on her looks still tweaked old, painful memories. It would take far more than two turns of compliments to numb those memories, but she was willing to accept help from her two main loves.

"You're awake!" G'raden's melodic bass voice always warmed Mara's heart and soul.

She tried to turn her head to the other side of the bed, but numbweed made her neck muscles unresponsive. "Did you tie me down?" she asked the wall.

Deep, gentle laughter approached as she tried again to move her head. The middle of the bed sank as two large hands landed on either side of her chest. The large dark grinning face of her weyrmate appeared and kissed her cheek.

"I would never take unfair advantage of you like that."

"Really!" She grinned with the side of her face not smashed into the pillow.

More laughter accompanied a slight blush. "I always give you an easy way out, don't I?"

"Where's the way out of this one?"

"Ahh." Now his grin faded. "Time is the only way out of this one, I'm afraid." He kissed her cheek again. "Can I help you turn your head?"

"Either that, or hold that position till I can do it myself." She pleaded with her one open eye. "Or, you could turn the bed?"

His chest rumbled with laughter as he kissed the corner of her eye. When she reopened it, he was gone.

G'raden knelt on the side of the bed and moved her left arm down. He ran his arm under the front of her shoulders and lifted gently, his other hand guiding her head into its new position. "Comfortable?"

"Mmm. Too numb to know right now." She caught his eyes as he sat in a chair next to the bed. "How bad is it, G'raden?"

"Not as bad as it probably feels. We had to put numbweed all over your back to keep the muscles from cramping. Fellis would normally do that."

They shared remembering grimaces at that. Mara was one of the few, but at least now recognized, people who had a rather frightening reaction to fellis; it would numb her body, but not her mind, effectively imprisoning her fully awake, but uncontrollable mind in a useless body until it wore off.

Knowing that she needed to know all the details, G'raden moved back to the bed and sat beside her. He ran a finger across the back of her neck. "You're scored here. You won't have to cut the back of your hair for awhile." A not so amused chuckle helped him go on. He ran his fingers over a long score across her shoulder blades. "Here." He fought back tears as he ran fingers over several more barely scabbing scores down her back. "Here." He smiled as Mara shivered at his gentle touch. He touched his thumbs to some smaller dots of score below her waist. "Here." He laid gentle hands on her shoulders. "Here." And then ran fingers along each of her arms. "And here."

Mara sighed. "So, it could've been considerably worse."

G'raden smiled at her eternal, but subdued optimism. He leaned closer and kissed the side of her head. "At least it didn't damage that beautiful smile of yours!"

"Ahh, stop that!"

"Make me stop." He ran a line of kisses down her face to her cheek and then the corner of her mouth.

"Oh, you do have a cruel streak! I knew it!"

G'raden laughed again as he moved back to his chair. "Enough torture, then." He crossed his arms over his massive chest. "You did good, Mara, by going between so quick. Otherwise . . ."

"Anybody here?" Mara grimaced at the overly friendly voice coming from the outer weyr.

"Back here, F'nor." G'raden quickly covered Mara with a fur and winked as he laid it over her shoulders.

Mara spoke quietly. "I don't know if I can deal with him right now."

G'raden whispered back. "He's been here three times already."

"Oh. Uh oh."

"So, how's our vicious little brown rider this afternoon?" F'nor sat in the chair next to the bed, but was not smiling.

Mara wasn't sure whether to answer the 'vicious' part or the 'how are you' part, so chose the latter. "I'll be fine, sir."

"You don't look fine."

"Thank you for pointing that out, sir." His squint told her he wanted more. "They're trying to see how fast they can go through the stores of numbweed."

"Ahh." He nodded his head quite seriously. "Good." After a few heartbeats, he got to the point of his visit. "Tell me what happened, Brown Rider."

"Yes, sir." Mara recounted the morning's events starting with F'lar's warning to the entire flight. She proceeded telling her wingleader every detail of what she witnessed, heard, felt, and did during the Fall. She ended with "And then we went back."

"You timed it back." His face was unreadable as he stated this simple fact.

Mara closed her eye while she took a deep breath. "Yes, sir, we did."

"You know timing it is against the rules?"

"Yes, sir, I do."

"Then, why?" He didn't sound at all angry, just curious.

"We were both in a hurry. We had to get back to protect those below us. That sheet of Thread was too much for blues and greens. If they had more warning, maybe, but . . ." F'nor was squinting at her again, meaning he wasn't getting what he wanted. "It wasn't intentional, Wingleader, or planned."

Now he stopped squinting. "Do not tell Lessa that part. You did what was necessary to protect others. Understood?"

"I won't lie to her, sir."

"I'm not telling you to lie. I'm telling you not to tell her it was unintentional. Lack of intention implies lack of planning, lack of thought, even lack of awareness."

"Understood, sir."

"You are not to time it again. Understood?"

"Even if it's necessary, sir?"

F'nor squinted. Why did she have to be so difficult? "It's against the rules!"

"Understood, sir."

"You broke another rule this day."

"Yes, sir."

"Which rule did you break?"

"I assaulted a fellow dragonrider, sir."

"Why?"

"I have no acceptable excuse, sir."

"Good answer. Every single rider I've talked to this day believes you had just cause to kill that fool, but you didn't. Would you have if F'lar hadn't stopped you?"

Mara had to think for quite a few heartbeats to find an honest answer. She had certainly wanted to for a few brief moments, but could she have? Really? "I'm not sure."

F'nor reached out and wiped a tear from the bridge of her nose. "Pillow must be dusty. You need to air it out more often."

Mara chuckled at her wingleader. "Did I hurt B'rand?"

The man rolled his eyes to the ceiling and pursed his lips. After a moment, he looked Mara in the eye. "Physically, you bruised the back of his thick skull, is all."

"And mentally?"

"He was surely mucked up long before he came here." Even with only one eye visible, the woman could stare more out of him. "He cried like a frightened infant, till they overpowered him and forced fellis down his throat."

"Tagamarth?"

"Understandably distraught. Any trust those two might have once had is gone. But the healers are keeping B'rand close enough to the entrance that Tagamarth can peek in once in awhile. Ramoth's had to calm him several times already. Just one more reason Lessa's not her normal happy self."

Mara's eye closed and she tried to shake her head. She sighed instead. When she opened her eye, F'nor was grinning.

He reached a hand out as if about to slap her back. Mara's wide eye and a fierce "F'nor!" from Brekke caused his hand to drop on hers instead.

He gripped her powerless hand as he might her forearm were she able to stand. "You did a good job today, little brown rider. I'm proud to have you in my wing."

How typical, thought Mara. He could never give her a compliment without some kind of little taunt. But, this was a pretty big compliment. She fought back a tear and smiled. "Thank you, brown wingleader." She was rewarded with a nearly evil grin that quickly transformed into an almost pitying smile.

"You do know there will be consequences for this day?"

"Yes, sir. As there should be."

F'nor was pleased to see no hint of fear in her steady one-eyed gaze. He nodded once before patting her hand and standing. "Brekke's turn. She loves seeing brown riders immobilized."

Mara heard a rather loud slap to an arm, and then a kiss before a smiling Brekke sat in the chair in her view.

G'raden motioned to the outer weyr as F'nor crossed the small room. "May I have a word with you, F'nor?"

"Of course." They both moved toward G'raden's dragon-covered Lytol weaving that served as a dividing curtain between dragon and rider's weyrs.

F'nor turned his head before leaving to see for himself the scoring on Mara's upper back. He clenched his eyes closed and shook his head as he ducked past the curtain.

They walked in silence through Normond's weyr, both patting the huge bronze as they passed his couch. They continued to the ledge where Canth lounged. F'nor rubbed the big brown's side lovingly before turning and leaning back.

"What's on your mind, G'raden?"

"I'd like to try to help B'rand, with your permission of course."

"Help him? Or repay him?"

G'raden chuckled. "I'll need a few days to be certain of that."

Both chuckled briefly as F'nor studied the younger, but taller man's face. "How can you help him, G'raden?"

"I have a good idea what's bothering him. You remember Mara's self-defense test?"

"Ha! No man with half a brain would forget that day!" F'nor, himself, had seriously underestimated the woman's abilities and wound up on his back with her smiling down at him.

"While B'nor and I were working with the boy, I felt something . . . familiar. That's what triggered the reawakening of my lost memories."

"You think . . ." F'nor had trouble even voicing the thought. He could never understand how anyone could possibly hurt a child.

"I think he may have had similar experiences. But, I'm not positive."

"What can you do?"

"Talk to start with. And help him overcome his fears."

"Fear? This day was the result of anger!"

G'raden chuckled. "Fermented fear often results in bursts of anger."

F'nor studied the man, remembering some of his 'bursts of anger'. Prior to remembering some difficult turns of his childhood, G'raden had been quick to anger. Most weyrfolk had simply avoided him out of their own fear. Since coming to terms with his past, though, G'raden had been a perfect example of patience in practice. F'nor tried to imagine this hulk of a man being afraid of anything, and then remembered the slip of a boy he had been thirty-some turns ago. "Fermented fear, huh?"

"He's hidden it well these last two turns."

"Even from Tagamarth?" F'nor knew better, but wanted to see G'raden's reaction.

The taller man grinned. "Dragons see far deeper into a man's soul than any of us can. I think there might yet be a good dragonrider inside young B'rand."

G'raden had certainly turned out to be a fine dragonrider, thought F'nor. And now he even led his own wing! All due to the insight and love of one mighty fine bronze dragon who even changed his name to accommodate a young boy's speech difficulties. "I have no objection."

"Good. I'll wait till Mara can help. Tagamarth seems to trust her. And I'll speak with the healers, of course."

F'nor pushed off from Canth's side and offered his arm to the rider before him. "You're a good man, G'raden." He reached his free arm up and around the man's shoulders, pulled him into a hug and slapped his back. "I'm proud of you, boy."

After a moment of surprise, G'raden returned the manly show of affection with a big smile and a firm slap of his own. "Thank you, sir."

Only now did F'nor seem to notice how close they were to the edge of the weyr. He could see quite a few people moving in the northern portion of Benden's bowl. He pushed the big man away with a grunt and led him with still gripped forearms toward the back of the weyr. "We better see what those girls are up to. Probably gossiping about us!"

G'raden laughed. "I don't mind!"

F'nor turned mockingly suspicious eyes to the man and grinned before letting loose of his arm.

The bronze rider stepped into his weyr first to be sure Mara was covered. Modesty wasn't an issue so much as protecting the older brown rider from a sight that would surely bring back painful memories. Mara's scoring was extremely mild compared to what F'nor had endured, but everyone in the weyr knew that he still flinched at the sight of fresh Thread score and did their best, out of respect, to protect him from the reminder.

F'nor followed and immediately winked at his weyrmate. "I knew it. Gossiping again, right?"

Brekke smiled as Mara groaned. "Of course, my love. What else could we possibly do while you're out playing with dragons?"

F'nor leaned down to kiss her cheek as he deftly took a small carisak full of 'healer's goodies' from her. He helped her stand and looked at Mara. "You, Brown Rider! Heal quickly. We need you."

Mara smiled as best she could. "Yes, sir!"

Brekke, now under F'nor's possessive arm, addressed G'raden. "She should get up and move a bit." She motioned toward the necessary. "And it wouldn't hurt to sit for awhile. I'll send up some food for you both, unless you'd rather go down yourself?"

G'raden gently squeezed the hand she had offered him. "I'd just as soon stay here, Brekke. Thank you for your help."

Brekke smiled at the giant. "I left some moisturizing oil on the chest. Dragon oil will actually work better, but not until she's healed. It's not prepared with as much concern for infections."

"Yes, ma'am. Understood."

"And you might want to cut down the numbweed on the adjoining muscles, unless she starts cramping again. That should give her more mobility."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Someone will be up later to check on her." She looked up at F'nor. "Can Normond contact Canth if they need anything?"

"Of course, dear."

"Good. Then we'll leave you two alone for a bit." She smiled almost apologetically. "Lessa won't be far behind us, so you might want to hurry." She motioned again toward the necessary.

"Yes, ma'am." G'raden nodded with an appreciative smile. "Thank you, Brekke." He nodded again at F'nor as they began turning to the exit. "F'nor."

"You take good care of my rider, Wingleader!"

G'raden laughed at the man's threatening tone. "Yes, sir, Wingleader!"

As soon as the curtain dropped back into place, G'raden went to Mara's side. "How about taking a walk, beautiful?"

Mara batted one eye lid and did her best to give her weyrmate a coquettish grin. "Only if you'll hold my hand, handsome."

G'raden grinned and laughed as he knelt on the bed. They both laughed at some of the positions they found themselves in during the extrication process. Having no use of her back muscles and some of her arm muscles was not as much fun as their laughter might have suggested. G'raden finally got her up onto her fully functional legs. She was still able to grip with her hands, so he placed one on his shoulder and ran his arm under and loosely around her back to hold underneath her other arm. Her head still wobbled, so they laid it on his shoulder.

"Ah, that's better."

"Ready?" He grabbed the fur he had draped over the chair and tossed it over his shoulder and her hand.

As they walked carefully the short distance to the necessary, Mara spoke like an excited child. "Did you know that redwort stings almost as much after numbweed?"

G'raden chuckled. "Especially on Thread score. Why do you think F'nor and I left?"

"You're both cowards."

"We're experienced!" 'And afraid of seeing our women in pain' he thought to himself.

Mara heard the thought and squeezed his shoulder. Oh, how she wished she could give this sweet man a big hug.

G'raden helped her with her most pressing need, and before leaving the necessary, wrapped her loosely in the bed fur.

_Ramoth is here._ Bronze Normond often bespoke both his rider and his weyrmate when they were together. It saved time in translation and explanation, and Mara had always been a pleasure to speak with.

Mara fought back a sarcastic remark. Dragons tended to be quite literal. If Normond said Lessa was here, then he meant somewhere in this weyr, not on her way. And sure enough, as G'raden pulled aside the curtain, there stood Lessa, just unfastening her jacket.

"Hello, Lessa!" Both riders addressed their weyrwoman in unison.

She nodded at each of them, her expression abnormally fierce. Mara caught a hint of concern as Lessa nodded her way.

"Please, have a seat" G'raden suggested as he led Mara to the small table.

Lessa, having already surveyed the room, walked to the side of the bed and carried that chair back to the table.

G'raden rolled his eyes at the thought of his weyrwoman moving furniture. Mara heard him scold himself. Lessa glared at the big man, daring him to say anything. Mara fought a smile; she had seen this routine before.

"Thank you" said Lessa as she sat in the chair she had moved.

G'raden, wanting to apologize, but knowing better, concentrated on situating Mara in the other chair. After a bit of help from Lessa, hiking the fur around Mara's hips, he found himself standing behind his weyrmate holding her head against his belly.

Lessa studied the couple for a moment. Mara was a big, strong, and frankly beautiful woman. It hurt to see her so immobilized. G'raden was much bigger, much stronger, but rather frightening, even though she knew him to be as gentle as one of those baby pet felines the weyrbrats had snuck into the lower caverns. They both wore those ever present, sometimes irritating smiles. Almost ever present, she reminded herself; she had seen the other sides of both these people, and had to admit she preferred the smiles.

"How are you feeling, Mara?"

"Embarrassed, somewhat regretful, . . ."

"Physically." Lessa withheld the smile that threatened to undermine her weyrwoman's duties on this visit. Mara had always, somehow, known how to lighten those duties, but now was not the appropriate time.

Mara witnessed the brief almost undetectable humor in Lessa's eyes, and the resolve that followed, and knew immediately that this was not a friendly social call. She always used extra effort to push away Lessa's thoughts, unlike almost anyone else. This woman had so little privacy, Mara felt a strong urge to protect what little she did have. So her only insights into Lessa's moods were usually limited to visual clues. "Physically," she said light-heartedly, "I don't feel much at all."

Lessa did smile briefly at that. "Good. And Klamath?"

"Same. He's sleeping again."

Lessa nodded. "I'm going to get right to the point, Mara. I need you to tell me what happened this morning."

"All of it, or should I get to the point?" Mara felt G'raden stiffen behind her and wished she could squeeze his hand or pat his leg. He had never understood the relationship between his weyrmate and his weyrwoman, and Mara had never tried to fully explain; another urge to protect Lessa's privacy.

"All of it!"

"Yes, ma'am." Mara ran through the details of what happened again, starting with F'lar's warning, ending with their return to fight Thread, but leaving out the surprise at discovering they had timed it back.

Lessa listened intently, never interrupting, until Mara paused. "You timed it."

"Yes, ma'am, we did."

"Intentionally?"

Mara cursed F'nor for setting her up again. Shards in his boots for all these flaming tests! "No, ma'am. There was no conscious intent."

"You know timing it is against the rules."

"Yes, ma'am."

"You know how dangerous it can be."

"Yes, ma'am."

"And, still!" She left the statement unfinished.

"Our conscious thoughts had to do with protecting the blue and green riders beneath us, and of course the golds and the land. We hadn't been able to warn the blues before going between."

"I see!" The words could have been a curse. Lessa stood and began refastening her jacket.

"And the other . . . incident?" Oh, how Mara wanted to drop her shields. Lessa's mind was so complex, and her face so undemonstrative; she looked so angry, but there was something else.

"F'lar has claimed that right." Lessa studied the big woman's face for a moment. "Heal quickly, Mara." She walked out of the weyr as quickly as her dignity would allow.

Mara rolled her eyes up toward G'raden. "Shards."

"Consequences" said the big man as he leaned over to see her face.

"Yeah, that too." She grimaced up at the upside down view of her lover, and then grinned. "I sure am hungry."

G'raden laughed as he stood again. "That's my beautiful brown rider!" Hand behind her neck, he moved around in front of the chair. "Let's get you moved against the wall. It won't be as soft, but I can at least see that wonderful smile."

Mara let her eyes wander to his massive chest. "The only time those muscles are soft is when you're between in sleep, my handsome bronze rider."

G'raden partially squatted over Mara's legs, laid her head on his shoulder and with hands on either side of the chair seat, moved her back against the wall. Mara's legs helped enough to make the move fairly smooth.

"Ooo, tingling in my neck!"

G'raden put one hand behind her neck and gently pushed her head back to the wall with the other.

"Numbweed's wearing off" they said to each other as their eyes met.

"You might be able to move by the time our meal arrives."

"Anybody home?" Someone yelled from the middle of the outer weyr.

"Or maybe not." G'raden grinned. "Back here M'lark!" He adjusted Mara's fur and said, "At least it will be an entertaining meal."

Green rider M'lark threw the curtain back with dramatic flair and glided into the inner weyr carefully dangling a small carisak from one arm. G'raden reached for the 'sak, but M'lark gracefully swooped around him to the table. "Oh, no, you don't. Manora herself packed this, and if I spill one drop, she promised my hide would be part of your next riding jacket. Not that I would mind." He winked at G'raden as he began unpacking the carisak. "Though it would take quite a bit of piece work to cover that big body of yours."

G'raden cleared his throat loudly. "What's in the 'sak, M'lark?"

The smaller man reluctantly tore his eyes from G'raden's chest. "Oh, yes." He pulled out a small bowl with a plate on top. "Sweet treats. She wants them left covered until you've eaten everything else." He pulled out a larger bowl with another plate covering with tubers and greens. "You, G'raden have been ordered to eat at least half of these, and I have been ordered to report your progress." He also pulled out two wrapped chunks of still steaming bread which he declared to be perfectly seasoned, some butter, made fresh this very day, and two small bowls of sweet spreads. As he pulled out the last bowl, he eyed Mara. "Can you move at all, my dear?"

"Only my legs." She had a feeling he was up to something.

"Oh, dear. G'raden, you are not to eat more than twice the meat that Mara does, and I have been ordered to report." He reached in one more time and pulled out two mugs. He handed them to G'raden. "Hold these."

M'lark scurried around G'raden, straddled Mara's knees and planted a full blown kiss on her lips. Mara, of course, could do nothing other than try to bounce him off with her knees. She heard two loud thunks on the table and the little green rider ascended before her face.

As the big bronze rider lifted the little green rider and turned to drop him on the other side of the table, M'lark looked back at him. "Oh, thank you, G'raden. My knees were getting weak."

"Sit!" ordered G'raden. He turned to Mara, checking on her stability during her laughing fit, and turned back to M'lark. "Stay!"

"If you insist." M'lark did as ordered, though he did start taking plates off of bowls and arranging the table while G'raden brought the bedside chest to the table.

G'raden banged the chest down between Mara and M'lark, and sat with audible intent. "So, what's the latest news down there?" he asked M'lark.

Mara continued laughing as M'lark began his long discourse of gossip. This man knew absolutely every bit of useless information about everything and everyone in the Weyr. He could tell who got a haircut this afternoon and what absolutely everyone thought of the new style. He knew who bought what each time they returned from out of the Weyr. And he knew who wore what to the lake to bathe their dragons, and had opinions on each item of clothing each person chose. He also knew which weyrmates were having 'little tiffs', but never what they were about. As he went through this day's bathing outfits, he paused with a wink to compliment Mara on her lovely gown and hoped he would see her wear it again, soon.

M'lark was not only the biggest gossip, but also the biggest flirt in the Weyr. He flirted with everyone; rumor had it he even tried with F'lar and Lessa, but only once. He was also just one of the male green riders who had approached Mara when Klamath was about ready for his first mating flight. He and the others each let her know that they wouldn't mind at all if Klamath were to fly their greens. M'lark had never given any details of any of his dragon-aided rendezvous, claiming that no self respecting dragonrider ever reported on kisses during mating flights. He did, quite often though, state quite boldly that he wouldn't mind at all if that dragon caught his sweet Tiralith again. Both Normond and Klamath had caught Tiralith in the past and neither rider had any complaints about M'lark.

M'lark was also one of T'men's most energetic and enthusiastic Thread fighters. He and Tiralith seldom lasted more than two candle-marks, but were ready to return to battle after only one candle-mark of rest. T'men, his wingleader, often regaled Mara and 'the brothers' with tales of M'lark and Tiralith's fantastically acrobatic flames.

The meal was quite entertaining, despite the fact that G'raden had to feed Mara throughout more than half. At one point, a rather large crumb of bread fell into Mara's 'gown'. M'lark pounced like a feline, declaring that he would get it. A growled 'sit!' from the bronze rider kept the green rider on his side of the table. Weyrmates exchanged humor filled glances as the green rider stated that he only wanted to help.

The numbweed started wearing off on Mara's muscles, so she was eventually able to face the table and even eat without help. G'raden repeatedly found reasons to touch her arm or shoulder to check her status without interrupting M'lark's highly entertaining, but useless recitation of the day's events. They had finished eating everything but the sweet treats when Mara's scores began bothering her.

"Now, these sweet treats are the most amazing creation Loreena has made yet. She used lots of sweetener and some of that new spice she's getting from near Landing."

"I think we'll keep those for later, M'lark." G'raden smiled kindly as he tried to hint that the green rider should leave.

"Thank you for bringing our meal, M'lark," Mara smiled even as her back began to burn.

"And thank you for all the news" added G'raden.

"I have more news." M'lark almost pleaded.

Mara wondered if he were having a little tiff with his weyrmate. "I'm starting to feel really tired, M'lark. But thank you."

The green rider packed the last of the serving bowls and plates into the carisak and walked around the table. "Well, if my favorite brown rider is tired, then she needs some rest." He poked G'raden on the shoulder as he passed. "Rest, G'raden, you hear that?"

G'raden laughed at the lascivious little man as he carried the chest back where it belonged. "She'll get plenty of rest, M'lark."

The little man deftly straddled Mara's knees again. "Is the numbweed wearing off, dear?"

Mara nodded. "Mmm hmm."

He moved a pointed finger toward her chest. "Let me see."

Mara caught his wrist and squinted. When he frowned, she leaned forward and pecked his lips just before G'raden again lifted him up and this time toward the dividing curtain.

M'lark sighed deeply as he stared into space with a silly grin. "Good night, my loves." He glided gracefully past the dragon weaving and was gone.

G'raden shook his head as he offered his hands to help Mara stand. "Why do you lead him on like that?"

"He's a sweet heart!"

"He seemed awfully needy this evening." Some concern crossed the big man's face.

"I would bet that he and S'nel are fighting again."

"Mmm." G'raden didn't appear to be paying attention. Instead, he studied the front of Mara's 'gown'. "What happened to that bread crumb?" Now he grinned.

Mara grinned back, shrugged her shoulders and lifted her elbows, allowing the bed fur to fall to the floor.

"Oh ho, woman!" The bronze rider stepped back, still holding her hands, and gratefully studied the shrunken woman before him. When he brought her to Benden Weyr two turns ago, she was nearly as big and bulky as he was, then and now. But, during weyrling training, she had thinned down considerably. She was still quite muscular and as strong as most of the men in this weyr, but in a much more feminine package. He returned his wandering eyes to hers. "Now, who's being cruel?"

Mara chuckled. "You are, if you don't start smearing numbweed."

He took a step forward and gently pulled her hands behind him. As she snuggled her face into his neck, he whispered in her ear. "Do you want to lie down, or sit?"

"Hmm. Sit." She kissed his neck before grimacing at him. "I'll have to lay backside to the sky all night."

G'raden's full eyebrows danced as his hands slid around her hips to rest on her backside. "I don't mind."

Mara ran her hands up his arms as high as her discomfort would allow. "You know what I'd really like to do?"

He ran his hands up to the sides of her waist. "Sit."

"No."

"Sit!" He gently guided her back into the chair.

"Oh." She smirked as he turned the chair-back to one side before she landed.

"All right, then." He stood and backed around the bed to the small chest. "What you really want to do? Right now?" When she nearly giggled, he turned, picked up the small pot of numbweed and the special glove the healers had provided, and turned back.

He walked slowly toward her, one arm stretched dramatically forward as he let his open hand fall slowly through the air between them. "Watch Rukbat slide slowly into the Western Sea from Tillek Point?"

His deep slow voice, combined with the sight of his hand sliding so sensuously through the air, made Mara shiver. "Nope."

He put the numbweed and glove on the table and squatted to pick up the bed fur she had dropped. "I saw you shiver; it must be chilly in here, dressed like that." He grinned as he laid the fur across her lap, and then stood and walked to the other side of the table. "Swim with the dolphins at Paradise Cove?"

"Nope."

He picked up the other chair, looked at her and put the chair back down. "Cover up, woman, unless you want numbweed all over . . . those."

Mara did as instructed, shivering again with the thought of such a sensation, this one not so pleasant.

He picked up the chair again and slowly walked around the table, looking into space. "Ahh. Standing on Crom Peak, watching the Turn's End ghosts?"

"Nope."

He sat the chair down rather loudly behind her. "Hmmph!" He took the glove from the table and made quite a humorous show of pulling the stretchy material over his large fingers and thumb. He pulled at the wrist, wriggled all his fingers, and when he was satisfied with the fit, let go with a loud snap. "Ouch" he said. "Who dreamed up this torture device?"

Mara laughed at her big strong man. "Someone who didn't like numb fingers?"

"Hmph." He sat behind her with the pot of numbweed and carefully began spreading the salve on each of the Thread scores on her back, neck and shoulders. "Dance at Benden Gather?"

"No, but close."

"Hunt felines in Southern?"

"Naaah."

They continued their long time game until G'raden moved his chair to her side to tend her arms. There, he noticed the forlorn look in her watery eyes. "What's wrong, love?"

Tears fell. "Klamath's hide was so beautiful, so perfect. And now . . ."

"Ahh." G'raden took her hands in his and squeezed. "And now he carries proof that he is a Thread fighting dragon of Pern, and that he has survived his first encounter with Thread."

Mara closed her eyes and grimaced even as she nodded. She would simply have to look differently at Klamath's hide from now on. She finally offered her weyrmate a half smile.

"Same with you, my love." When she frowned, he chuckled. "Those scores are proof that you are a Dragonrider who takes her position very seriously. And we already know that you're a survivor. Those scores only add to your beauty!"

"Oh, stop that."

"Never!" He glared until she smiled. "That's my beautiful brown rider!"

Mara watched his face as he resumed his careful ministrations to her arms. She sometimes wondered if she could have changed the way her life had been before coming to Benden Weyr, but every time she looked at this sweet, wonderful, compassionate man, she knew that even given the chance, she would not change one single detail of her past for fear of never meeting him. He was almost as much a part of her body and soul as her beloved Klamath. And she could not imagine living without either one of them.

When the bronze rider was satisfied that his weyrmate felt absolutely no pain, they had a rather tense discussion about whether repairing fighting gear would be considered resting. He finally convinced her to simply read one of the books she had borrowed from the Benden Weyr library. They spent most of the remaining evening reading; he read _Chiropractic Techniques of 21__st__ Century Earth_ and she reread (for the third time) _Psychology Theories of 21__st__ Century Earth_.

Brekke stopped by late in the evening to check again for infections. F'nor stayed on the ledge with Canth 'to check his harness'. G'raden joined him for awhile.

Brekke suggested wine to help Mara sleep better, but when the brown rider scrunched her face at that idea, she held out a small skin.

"Lessa says you really like this new liqueur from Tillek. It'll probably help even more than wine."

Mara thanked her profusely. She did indeed very much like the new 'Klah Cream Liqueur' from Tillek. It had a faint taste of klah, none of the sickeningly sweet flavor of wine, and went down like warm milk, the warmth spreading quickly throughout the entire body, and, it seemed, even the mind.

Just before they went to bed, Mara picked up the skin and turned north. She lifted the skin in a silent toast to Weyrwoman Lessa. With a tear of relief in her eye, she took one healthy swig of the liqueur. It would seem that their friendship had not been irrevocably damaged by this day's outburst.

_Thank you, Lessa._

_You earned it, dear._

* * *

Can't have action in all the chapters. Any complaints?


	3. Evening the Score

Pern is not mine, but I keep wishing.

* * *

"'Klah Cream Liqueur' is far better than fellis" declared Mara.

"You never moved until the numbweed started wearing off." G'raden smiled as he applied more numbweed to her back and shoulders.

"And I feel good! Just a little bit light-headed." Mara shook her head to check the status of that sensation. "You should try some, G'raden."

"No, ma'am! I'm not fond of any of those alcoholic beverages. I don't like that light-headed feeling."

"I don't like it much either, but it's still better than fellis."

"Then we'll keep some in stock for the next time you get scored."

Mara turned to glare at her weyrmate. "There won't be a next time."

"Good." He nodded decisively. "Then we don't need to keep any up here."

Mara nodded agreement, but then cocked her head slightly. "After I'm able to lie on my back again?"

"Agreed."

Mara and G'raden had awoken shortly before Rukbat peaked over the eastern horizon, as the sky began to lighten the interior of Benden's bowl and Normond's weyr. During the warmest summer months, the curtain between weyrs was often fastened open to allow light into the rider's weyr as well. Rising early had become their custom unless either or both had worked especially hard the previous day. They enjoyed sitting on Normond's ledge and watching as stars faded in Rukbat's light. One or both of their dragons would normally join them on the ledge – it was a tight fit for all four, but quite companionable, and much warmer in the winter months. Their male dragons had devised a plan on their own for taking turns using the weyr; one would sometimes sleep on the ridge during warmer seasons, or in an empty weyr nearby.

This morning, though, there had been no star watching. Thread score treatment had taken priority. When Mara woke as the numbweed wore off, as it had done once during the night, G'raden woke as well, being highly sensitive to her discomfort.

As the bronze rider applied numbweed to the brown rider's day old scores, they discussed their plans for the day. G'raden had been quite willing to rearrange his plans to keep Mara company during her forced idleness. Mara had strongly disapproved, declaring that she didn't need to be coddled. Secretly, she was unwilling to interfere with the newfound excitement this man had been displaying over the possibilities for his and their futures after this current and hopefully last pass.

Prior to Mara's impressing Klamath at Ista Weyr, G'raden had once admitted that he never even thought about After. He never saw himself living on a Thread-free Pern; he was, after all, a dragonrider and a Thread-fighter. But he had been one of the riders from Benden to attend a landmark presentation by the history and government students at Landing after Toric, who had attempted a takeover of Ista Weyr, had been removed as Lord Holder of Southern Hold. He and T'men had even helped the students by sitting through several practice presentations. G'raden's questions and thoughts had been greatly appreciated by the students, and he was often asked to join in their discussions, and to preview their increasingly frequent presentations on the future governance of Pern. He had also taken a keen interest in history, both of Pern and pre-Pern Earth. T'men's establishment of the Benden Weyr Library had helped in G'raden's self directed studies. It didn't take long before G'raden had exhausted Benden's historical resources, so T'men had introduced him to the AIVAS facility. Time on AIVAS was extremely precious, though, and Mara would not allow G'raden to give up one of his research sessions, or a later scheduled discussion with the students and their mentor, Lytol.

Later in the afternoon, G'raden was scheduled to assist Masterhealer Oldive with a practice session on chiropractic procedures. G'raden had proven to be a natural healer since childhood. His empathic abilities had been misused after his mother's death, but now, he found chiropractics to be quite fulfilling. He was quite limited in the time he could spend feeling and sometimes taking away other's pains, as it would drain his own energy levels tremendously. With chiropractic work, he could limit his exposure, and then, by manipulating certain joints, alleviate many pains without stressing himself. Oldive enjoyed having G'raden's skills handy when training on particularly difficult cases, especially those involving the vertebrae, as misjudgment on a student's part could cause even more problems. With a simple touch, G'raden could tell a student if they had used the proper amount of pressure, and could determine what more might help the patient.

Mara convinced G'raden that she felt quite well enough to visit Klamath in the dragon infirmary and to join the rest of the Weyr at morning meal. Afterwards, she would begin the repairs of Klamath's riding harness, and her riding jacket and belt. G'raden had been concerned that so much hide work might be too strenuous at this stage of her recuperation, but had to concede that, were he in her place, he would wish to do the same. She did promise that if she became too tired, she would simply read or work on her stitching.

She had become interested in stitching designs on fabric and hide early in weyrling training when one of the tunics provided from weyr stores had included pretty little vines stitched around the neckline. Wingleader T'men had found a book detailing 'embroidery techniques' and she had begun taking copious notes during what free-time she found during weyrling training, until the thoughtful and generous ex-harper provided her with her own copy of the book. Her 'free time', he had declared, should be spent on the basic training subjects she had missed out on during her rather difficult childhood. Benden's Weyr Harper was an accomplished artist, as well as a musician and teacher, and took particular delight in drawing the unique native flora around Benden Weyr. Some species would only flower for one or two days each turn, and these were the flowers Mara had stitched onto her riding jacket, as well as most of her, and some of G'raden's, more casual clothing.

Her reading now, after having finished T'men's list of required basic education subjects, often included psychology and sociology related materials. Since childhood, she had often wondered why a person might act in a particular way, or why another might act in the exact opposite manner under very similar situations. After awakening her people 'listening' skills, she had expanded her wondering to why people thought certain ways. She had been quite surprised, and a bit distressed, to discover that the reasons for most actions and thoughts could be distilled down to the very basic needs of any individual; survival and procreation. It wasn't until T'men offered a book on the theories of evolution of the human species that these two basic needs made much sense to her. And, at that same time, Klamath had become sexually mature. Experiencing Klamath's natural maturation had furthered her understanding of the instinctual need to procreate; her own experiences had been so hampered with misinformation and lack of freedom that they didn't provide any insight. Now, her interests were in how to provide the basic survival needs to all the people of Pern; she and G'raden often discussed the possibilities for the future should people be allowed to spend time on their own interests rather than mere survival. He never discouraged her lofty goals, allowing that such dreams were what made change possible. She was anxious to find time to accompany her weyrmate to Landing, but being comfortable and confident of her and Klamath's abilities in F'nor's wing would take precedence for a while longer.

This morning, after treating threadscore and dressing, they mounted Normond with considerable laughter at Mara's slightly limited mobility, and glided down and around the weyrbowl before most people were even awake. Normond landed with grace just outside the infirmary, and even snaked his head in to have a look for himself at Klamath.

While G'raden did his normal morning exercises, Mara helped the healers tend to Klamath's scoring, and then oiled some of the spots he declared no one else could do as good a job on. Afterward, she sat at his side and they thought through what had happened the day before. Could they have done anything different, or better?

G'raden stopped in to admire the 'services marks' Klamath now carried, before returning to the weyr to bathe and prepare for the morning meal and his long day of travels. Mara and Klamath moved on to thinking about practice drills and how to improve their performance on various techniques. Klamath had just begun filling her in on some of the dragon gossip he had overheard while lounging in the infirmary, when G'raden returned to join Mara in the dining hall. Klamath was quite heroic in declaring that he didn't need her coddling; they could always talk even if they were in separate weyrs.

The morning meal wasn't as relaxed as normal. Terse nods from the weyrleaders and F'nor had quickly dampened Mara's spirits. Many riders were curious about her opinions of what had happened the day before, but Mara was uncomfortable discussing the cause of her and Klamath's first scoring. She became rather agitated when a few riders began trying to analyze B'rand's motives for his lack of action. That, declared Mara perhaps a little too loudly, was an issue to be discussed in a more formal inquiry with B'rand being present. Mara never noticed the grins of her wingleader and weyrleader directed at their weyrwoman. She, G'raden, G'regg and B'nor were very quickly left to themselves. G'regg and B'nor, though, had lightened the mood by listing all the leisurely activities a rider could engage in after being scored. B'nor even suggested she might now have time to stitch the patches he wanted for a quilt he'd designed; his hands, he claimed, could manage the straight stitching just fine, but the fancier stitches required Mara's more delicate, feminine touch.

After the morning meal and a quick kiss, G'raden left Benden Weyr for the first of his scheduled encounters of this day. Mara walked first to the healers to check in, and then to the tanner's rooms to pick out the hides she would need. G'regg offered to take her back up to the weyr, but Mara declined, stating that the weyrlings needed their practice. In reality, though, she was simply not in a mood to fend off his constant teasing advances. One day, she had decided some time ago, she would turn the tables on him and pretend to accept his offer just to see his reaction, but not this day, and not anytime soon.

After a brief discussion with L'ret through brown Duranth, a new inductee to the weyrling conveyance team arrived on her pretty little green dragon. She formally introduced herself as Cynthera, rider of green Ulith. Mara, 'due to her injuries', had a bit of trouble mounting, and required extra assistance from the young girl. As they circled the bowl to reach the level of G'raden's weyr, Mara 'lost control' of the hide she carried, causing it to flap against the skittish young dragon's side. As dragon and rider regained their composure, Mara saw L'ret's nod of approval and heard Duranth's amused thank you. Mara guessed that this young team would be assigned to her again and started thinking of other ways she could clumsily test and stretch the pair's confidence. The bed furs could use a good airing, as could G'raden's Lytol woven curtain and bed cover. She checked the girl's schedule through Duranth and decided that after noon meal or tomorrow would be soon enough, weather permitting. She would also check with the lower cavern women to see if space would be available on the lines stretched out for such purposes.

Mara spent the morning working on Klamath's riding straps on Normond's ledge, and bantering back and forth with her remarkable brown about the merits, advantages, and possible uses of the 'service marks' they had 'earned'. Other dragons joined the discussion from time to time, adding their draconic logic based opinions, and in what seemed like no time at all, Mara noticed people moving toward the dining hall for the noon meal.

She requested a ride to the floor of the bowl, and very soon the same young green pair landed on the weyr ledge. Mara would take her newly repaired riding straps with her to have them checked over by the weyrlingmaster or one of his assistants, and almost smiled as she 'heard' Cynthera worry to herself and Ulith about the way she haphazardly bunched them in her arms. Sure enough, on the glide down, Mara 'lost track' of one of the ends, fortunately not a buckled end, and the poor little green's back was throttled by the thick weyrhide strap flapping in the wind. Mara regained control of her straps quickly, though, and on landing near the weyrling barracks, apologized profusely to both the little green and her rider for causing them any discomfort. Again, L'ret nodded at her just before taking the now angry, but too-shy-to-say-so rider aside for a little discussion.

One of L'ret's newer assistants checked over Mara's repairs on Klamath's straps and grudgingly approved her work. He commented on her untidy gathering of the straps, but relented when Mara informed him this was only for training purposes. He accompanied her out of the barracks and stood with L'ret as they watched and listened to Cynthera first request and then demand that Mara roll her straps more neatly for the protection of her dragon.

After landing back at the weyr, Mara shared other tactics for getting passengers to properly secure their goods; not all holders and crafts people fully understood just how fragile thick dragon hide could be. The green pair took Mara to the dining hall, and having been given time for her own meal, the young rider joined her. They discussed other issues that a woman rider might have to deal with in the course of her duties. G'regg stopped by briefly to harass Mara, but left quickly when the girls resumed their discussion of female rider's needs.

After eating, Mara excused herself to talk to the lower cavern women about airing G'raden's bedding and weavings, and left the young rider talking to other weyrlings. On her return, she was a bit annoyed to find G'regg teasing Cynthera, gently, but enough to cause her obvious discomfort.

Mara walked up from behind him and landed a loud unbalancing slap on the side of his arm. "G'regg, you lascivious old wherry-brained fool, leave the girl alone."

"Yes, ma'am!" G'regg responded out of shock and long ago learned respect, but when he turned around and saw Mara grimacing at him, his grin returned. "What about you brown rider? What are you doing this fine afternoon?"

Mara took a step closer with a slight sway of her hips and nearly whispered. "I'm sharpening my belt knife." She let her eyes fall to his belt and raised them with a mischievous grin of her own. "Wanna help, bronze rider?"

"No, ma'am!" He stepped back as his hands folded below his waist, still grinning, but with a bit of redness in his cheeks. "You have a real pleasant afternoon, brown rider. And you too, pretty little green rider." He winked at Cynthera.

When Mara stomped her foot, the bronze rider backed right into B'nor, and turned quickly to leave. "What's 'lascivious'?" he asked his friend.

"Look it up, brother." B'nor winked at Mara as he excused himself with "Ladies."

When Mara looked down at the weyrling green rider, she looked as if she might fall over; obviously inner hold-bred, thought Mara. She put an arm over the youngster's shoulders and led her to the exit. "You have to learn to stand up to these men, Cynthera." She leaned down and spoke for the girl's ears only. "G'regg is harmless, but he will tease to no end, and the more you blush, the more he'll tease."

"But, you hit him."

Ahh, thought Mara, more consequences. "I slapped him. Open handed. All women, no matter their rank, have that right."

"Would a woman rider have the right to slap a holder?" The girl asked this as they turned outside to walk toward the healer's caverns.

"Oh! Outside this Weyr, any rider uses physical deterrents only as a last resort. You'll want to talk with some of the other girl green riders for more verbal options, though." She puffed up to her full imposing height and stature. "This brown rider doesn't have much experience in that area for some reason." When the girl chuckled, Mara relaxed and smiled. "Not that I mind. My first instinct is always physical and seldom just a slap. Where I come from a woman's first defense might be her only opportunity for any self defense."

"Will I get the opportunity to talk to other green riders before I'm expected to convey holders?"

"Ask Weyrlingmaster L'ret. He's remarkably considerate of his female weyrling's concerns. If he's not comfortable answering any question, or doesn't know the answer, he always knows someone who can help. And take full advantage of each opportunity he does offer. Almost anyone in this Weyr is willing to answer questions, especially for weyrlings."

Bronze Tagamarth lay outside the cavern entrance, slow swirling orange eyes keeping a watch on the interior. Someone had moved the curtain around B'rand's bed to allow the bronze a view of his rider. Mara couldn't help but notice the grayish tinge to the beast's hide. She wanted to reach out to him, but couldn't just yet. She knew all this wasn't his fault, but she just couldn't reach out to him yet.

The girl asked as they entered the healer's cavern, "May I watch the healers?"

Mara changed her focus. Cynthera, L'ret had informed her, was painfully shy. L'ret would be pleased that she had ventured so far as to ask such a 'personal' question. "You've seen thread score before, right?" asked Mara.

"Yes, but only when it's fresh, not during the healing stages."

"It's not very pretty." Mara tried to dissuade her.

"It can't be worse than fresh, can it?" She smiled cautiously and hopefully.

Mara chuckled. "That would depend on what level of beauty you assign to scabs."

Cynthera finally laughed, and followed as Mara walked further in and quietly passed B'rand's curtained off bed. Journeywoman Loralin led them to a small well-lit room and closed the door after turning a slate sign to show 'occupied' on which she had chalked in Mara's name beneath the painted word.

The young rider's eyes grew wide as Mara loosened her trousers and removed her tucked in tunic.

Loralin couldn't resist teasing. "Never seen muscle like this on a woman, have you?"

The girl blushed and looked away. "No ma'am. And I apologize for staring, Mara."

Mara chuckled. "No offense taken. I know it's . . . unusual."

The girl built up the courage to look at Mara's face. "How . . .?"

"Genetics" answered Mara with a grin.

"Ha! Breast size is genetic!" The healer sat up straight to display just how proud she was of her own genetics. When the blushing green rider smiled, Loralin laid a hand on Mara's bicep. "Muscle like this takes hard work, and lots of it."

Mara shrugged her shoulders and donned a silly deprecating grin, which was sufficient to bring more laughter from the hold-bred girl.

Loralin had Cynthera join her at Mara's back and showed her the difference between score that had been irritated by the chafing of clothing, and infection. She reassured Mara that the infection was minor and promptly began treating it with redwort and something else that stung even more. As the healer moved on to the numbweed part of her treatment, she asked the girl about her most recent assignments around the Weyr.

The weyrling seemed a bit bothered by the fact that she had been assigned to cleaning rider's weyrs, sometimes while the riders were still present. Further questioning by healer and brown rider uncovered the fact that her green had not yet flown her first mating flight, and the girl had absolutely no sexual experience. She also still held the holder's belief that sharing furs with more than one person was quite repulsive on a moral level. Mara reminded her that such was the duty of any dragonrider for the health of their dragon, and Loralin informed her, with Mara's agreement, that it shouldn't have to be unpleasant. Mara then informed her that L'ret and Duranth probably felt her green would rise very soon and was giving her the opportunity to experiment prior to that time. The girl's tears prompted Mara and Loralin into a discussion of how considerate most riders were of their mating flight partners. Only the most rude rider would ever discuss a mating flight rendezvous with anyone but their partner for that particular flight. They moved on to discuss how dragonmen would probably have considerably more to be embarrassed about, should they allow themselves to dwell on the subject; a green only rose three or four times each turn, but blues, browns, and often bronzes participated in the flights of most of the over one hundred greens. And a male dragon's rider never knew whether his dragon might catch a green ridden by a man or a woman. Healer and brown rider agreed, for the benefit of the soon to mature green rider, that discretion in mating flights was probably as much a moral survival tool for the men of the weyr as it was considerate of the relatively few women riders.

The weyrling calmed down considerably and began watching Mara. She obviously had questions for Pern's first female brown rider, but was uncomfortable discussing them in Loralin's presence. So, Mara broached the subject with Loralin.

"I am sooo very fortunate that my sweet Klamath prefers greens with male riders."

"There was that one time." Loralin understood where Mara was leading the discussion.

"Oh, yes! That was the most frightening day of my life, I'm sure!"

"But, it worked out just fine, didn't it?"

"Klamath caught a girl's green?" Cynthera was aghast at the thought.

"Mmm." Mara nodded distractedly. "Cally's Mynth."

"What happened?" The girl immediately flushed. "I'm sorry. It's none of my business."

Mara and Loralin shared glances and then grins.

"Nothing happened!" declared Loralin.

"But most people don't know that" retorted Mara. She sat straight and tall with mock pride. "Most people only know that I took very good care of a very sweet little girl."

"How?" The weyrling was losing some of her fear of talking of such things.

"That's my secret!" declared Mara with mock hostility.

"Some of us know about it."

"But, it's still my secret, Loralin. And I'd like to keep it that way."

The healer bowed her head graciously, but spoke with obvious disgust. "As you wish, brown rider."

"Thank you, healer."

"So," began Loralin, "do you find any of the boys or men of this weyr interesting?"

Cynthera, reluctantly at first, began listing the young men she found to be 'interesting' in some way. Loralin quickly weeded out any who didn't cause those little flutter-bys in the girl's stomach, and then a few more who she thought might have a bit of a mean streak. The two of them then discussed exactly how two people might express interest in each other, and quickly weeded out a couple more boys. Mara listened raptly, stating, when asked, that she loved to surprise G'raden. Loralin quickly moved on to demonstrating feminine movements to arouse further interest, both discreet and not so discreet. Cynthera gamely tried some of the movements and Mara jokingly butchered some. By the end of a candle-mark, Loralin had managed to extract a promise from the green rider that she would at least try to 'further her education', for the sake of her dragon.

Cynthera and Ulith flew Mara back up to her weyr and returned to the weyrling barracks. From the ledge of the weyr, Mara witnessed the girl walk up to one of the boy weyrlings bathing his brown at the edge of the lake. When the boy spun around and dropped his brush, Mara smiled and went further into the weyr.

She spent the afternoon in a chair on the weyr ledge unstitching the pieces of her wherhide riding jacket. The front, with her fancy stitching, could be saved with a bit of patchwork, but the back was shredded except for where her belt had been, and the arms had large long holes. She would keep the tattered scraps for future patching.

Klamath was so disturbed by the sight of the jacket, Mara suggested he catch up on dragon gossip; they would both want to know the location of the wild beast herds when Klamath was permitted to fly again. As a result, she had a fairly quiet afternoon; dragon thoughts were an almost constant in her mind, but they were almost always pleasant and extremely calming. She did 'overhear' a rather sudden squabble between two weyrmates and successfully pushed it to the back of her mind.

One person's thoughts kept pushing forward in her mind, though. B'rand seemed to be having some very bad dreams. She reached out for Tagamarth, but he was silent, probably, thankfully, asleep. She tried to push those thoughts and pictures to the back of her mind, rationalizing that he deserved a few bad dreams, but was only partially successful. B'rand's mind was screaming. When he not only screamed, but actually screamed for help, and Mara pricked the same finger for the fourth time, she contacted Duranth and requested a ride to the bowl.

A different weyrling pair arrived within minutes. This blue rider seemed quite confident in their abilities and was very efficient at helping Mara to his blue's back. They glided smoothly down to the healer's cavern entrance and Mara dismounted, thanking both rider and blue dragon. Tagamarth wasn't at his post, so Mara looked around the bowl and found him near the lake, scored neck stretched out in the sun, appearing to be supported by a green on either side.

Mara was greeted by a worried Loralin as she walked into the cavern. "Are you all right?" she asked.

"I'm fine." Mara pointed toward the curtained bed. "May I sit with him for awhile?"

"You won't strangle him, will you?"

Mara smiled. "Not this day."

The healer studied the brown rider's face for a few heartbeats, and then nodded. "There's a chair next to the bed. I'll be back in just a bit."

Mara nodded and turned to walk past the curtain. She stopped at the foot of the bed and just looked at the man who could have easily caused her and Klamath to be no more. The young man, eighteen turns now, looked so peaceful; there was no trace of anger deforming his boyishly handsome features. Could this be the same boy who was so desperately calling for help in his dreams?

Mara took a deep breath and moved closer to the head of the bed. His hand, lying on top of the bed fur, caught her attention. She gently turned it palm up and gasped. The small hands reaching into the fire in his dreams were his. These weren't dreams – they were memories. She moved further and ran her hand beneath his bare, thin shoulder.

Loralin returned to find Mara tenderly touching her patient, with tears running down her cheeks. "Mara?"

"May I see his back?"

The healer argued with herself for just a heartbeat, and then, seeing an almost heart-wrenching plea in the woman's eyes, decided to comply with her request.

Mara stood back and watched as the healer expertly rolled the young man to his side. She grimaced at the sight of very old scars running from the boy's shoulders all the way down to his hips. In his dreams, someone pushed him, no kicked him into the fire after he pulled his hands back out. He must have been very young to not have known that a blackrock fire would burn his hands.

"Thank you." Mara's words were barely audible as she turned to leave.

Loralin rolled the young man back onto his back and quickly followed the pale woman. "Mara?"

"He's having bad dreams, Loralin."

"Like you did?" When Mara nodded, the healer began to pale. "We'll stop the fellis. Are you all right?"

Mara nodded again. "I need to be with Klamath."

* * *

G'raden knew almost immediately after blinking out of between that something was wrong at Benden Weyr. The watch dragon's bugle was welcoming, but strained. Normond began filling him in on what the dragons now knew about B'rand's 'dreams'. G'raden shook his head and then noticed that Normond was on the wrong approach if they were going to land at their weyr.

_Where are we going, Normond?_

_Mara is with Klamath. She is rather upset._

_Very well, my love._

Normond landed, not quite as gracefully as normal, just outside the dragon infirmary. He immediately craned his neck to assist his rider. Rather than slide down his bronzes side, G'raden merely leaned forward onto Normond's muzzle, which was then carefully lowered to the ground.

G'raden smiled as he gratefully rubbed Normond's muzzle between his large eyes. _Thank you, my dear one._ He stood straight and rotated his shoulders and neck before walking into the infirmary.

Mara leaned against Klamath, her arms wrapped around his muzzle just below his closed eyes, her head resting between his eyes, facing the other direction. She took a deep breath and let it out rather raggedly.

"Mara?"

She didn't turn her head. "Hello, G'raden."

"May I approach your rider, Klamath?"

_Of course._

G'raden walked behind Mara, placed his hands at her waist, leaned gently against her, and kissed the side of her head.

Mara spoke quietly and slowly, as if about to fall asleep. "It would be so easy to just hate him. I know what he did, and that should be enough to just hate him forever. No more thought. No regret."

"Since when do you take the easy path, my love?"

"Someday? Maybe?"

G'raden snorted. "Maybe." He pushed away and gently tried to turn her. "Look at me, Mara."

Mara let him turn her and looked into his eyes. She put her hands to the side of his face and ran her thumbs across his wide cheeks. "You helped Oldive."

G'raden's head cocked slightly as he smiled apologetically. "I like him." When she smiled, he moved on. "You know we can help B'rand, too."

"You're too tired, G'raden."

"This needs to be dealt with now. And we'll all sleep better afterwards."

Mara buried her face in his neck and hugged him as best she could. After a few heartbeats, she nodded.

_Normond, will you please tell Canth that I need to talk to his rider._

"You called, Wingleader?"

Both weyrmates jumped at F'nor's voice. As Mara turned, one hand still on G'raden's shoulder, he loosely wrapped his arm around her waist. When they were turned, there stood F'nor, F'lar, Lessa, Tarminas, Loralin and another healer Mara didn't recognize.

"What do you need, G'raden?" Lessa spoke surprisingly gentle as she stood under F'lar's arm with hers wrapped around his waist.

Within a very short time, B'rand, still under the influence of fellis, had been dressed in a lightweight tunic and trousers. He had always seemed extremely modest, and would not be forced to stand bare during this proceeding. Until today, only the healers had known about the scars on his back. He was moved to a secluded room in the lower caverns, where any noise should not disturb the entire weyr. Chairs and glows were placed around the fairly large, but empty storage room.

Lessa and F'lar sat against one wall, hand in hand. Lessa merely observed what was going on and thought about what was planned. G'raden had filled them in on what might be expected, and Lessa was not looking forward to witnessing this 'healing'. She had asked Ramoth to inform all the dragons, and the junior weyrwomen to inform the weyrfolk of what could be expected.

Sebell sat next to F'lar. The Masterharper was rather excited at the opportunity to see G'raden in action. Oldive had talked to him about what Tarminas had observed two turns ago, and now they would both be able to witness the bronze rider's other long hidden abilities.

Masterhealer Oldive sat next to a journeywoman healer who was studying 'maladies of the mind'. He had shared with Lessa two turns ago how much he would love to witness G'raden's abilities in practice. Weyr Master Healer Tarminas sat on the woman's other side. Both Masters listened attentively to what the journeywoman had been learning from AIVAS.

G'regg and B'nor had joined the others at G'raden's request; they had both helped with a similar event once before. They now sat on either side of G'raden while he napped. Neither appeared very comfortable in the presence of so many high ranking people.

Brekke and Loralin sat on either side of B'rand's low bed. Both had been warned by Lessa that anyone touching him caused the dreams to worsen. Lessa didn't state the source of that information; Brekke was aware of Mara's abilities, and Loralin was left to believe that Tagamarth had been Lessa's source.

F'nor and Mara stood out near the lake, surrounded by some of Pern's largest dragons. Grayish bronze Tagamarth was the center of attention. Mnementh and Canth flanked him on either side, ready to restrain him if necessary, but currently crooning gentle reassurances. Ramoth lounged before the three males in a most queenly manner, also crooning reassurance, and ready to exert her tremendous will on Tagamarth if necessary. F'nor stood near Canth's massive head, occasionally asking questions of Mara, but mostly just observing.

Mara caressed Tagamarth's face as she tried to prepare him for the torment he would soon experience from his rider. Lessa had offered her telepathic vision to Mara so that Tagamarth could actually see B'rand. The distraught bronze anxiously watched his beloved rider as he slept, apparently at peace, even as his mind cried and sometimes screamed.

All waited now for B'rand to wake from his fellis-induced, memory tortured sleep.

Meal-time came and went, and kitchen helpers delivered food and drink to all those helping B'rand.

Tarminas seemed rather embarrassed when asked just how much fellis he had given the young dragonrider. He reluctantly informed Oldive that he had increased the normal 'dragonrider dose' only slightly due to B'rand's high level of anxiety. And, no, he had not had the opportunity to question the boy; any word or touch had merely sent the boy into another fit of crying or screaming.

The storage room was temporarily filled with quiet chuckles when G'raden's head cocked at an odd angle causing a rather loud rumbling snore. G'regg and B'nor quickly and expertly readjusted him in his chair, and all continued waiting.

When B'rand began to stir, events unfurled rather quickly, to everyone's surprise. Mara and Tagamarth watched through Lessa's eyes.

G'regg and B'nor woke G'raden and all three moved toward the bed. Loralin and Brekke moved back to the chairs the men had vacated. Mara heard Brekke inform all the dragons of Benden Weyr that the time was coming and all should remain calm.

When B'rand opened his eyes to see G'raden sitting on the edge of his bed, he curled into a ball away from the big bronze rider. On seeing two more big riders, he rolled off the bed and tried to dart away. When he turned and saw an audience, confusion almost replaced the fear on his face and in his mind.

F'lar stood and tried to calm the boy, who backed away and right into the arms of G'raden. With his friends' help, G'raden quickly had the boy's arms pinned and simply held him while talking.

Tagamarth grew highly agitated at the sight of his rider being restrained. Mara and the three attending dragons soothed him as best they could. All the dragons of the Weyr crooned reassurances from their perches on the ridges and at weyr entrances. Riders stood near their dragons on ledges or in groups around the bowl. Weyrfolk also huddled in groups, quietly comforting each other.

_Yes, he's afraid, Tagamarth. But watch. No one is hurting him. Do you see that? G'raden will help stop the fear, Tagamarth. You stay calm for your rider._ Mara's litany continued as dragons added their comforting support.

As B'rand calmed just slightly, G'raden moved one hand to the side of the boy's head and gently held it next to his own. The boy tensed and wept as the man talked. G'regg and B'nor stood at G'raden's sides, but didn't touch him or the boy.

_He will feel dizzy, Tagamarth, but he'll be fine. No one is going to hurt your rider, Tagamarth. Watch._

As the boy stiffened, eyes wide with terror, Tagamarth let out a sad, pained bellow. When the boy slumped in the man's arms, the bronzes bellow turned to a high pitched, but slow keen.

G'regg and B'nor caught G'raden by the arms as he began to wobble. The boy stirred, stood slowly and looked extremely confused, but did not fight to escape G'raden's still firm hold. The boy spoke, and Tagamarth began huffing.

Tears rolled freely down Mara's cheeks as she felt Tagamarth's relief. She heard B'rand reach out to his life-mate, not in fear, but with concern, and stepped back from the huge huffing head as it rose into the air to bugle. Tagamarth's joyful bugle was soon accompanied by similar happy releases from all around the Weyrbowl.

Mara continued watching through Lessa's eyes. F'lar approached the boy, who now seemed quite embarrassed. G'raden released B'rand cautiously while G'regg and B'nor obviously supported his bulky frame. B'rand took F'lar's outstretched arm and allowed the weyrleader to pull him into a hug. He only flinched slightly as Lessa's hand patted his shoulder and other hands patted his back. From the corner of Lessa's vision, Mara could see G'raden being helped into a chair by his attentive and concerned 'brothers'.

"Shall we join the party?" F'nor offered his arm to Mara as she refocused and then grinned. He wiped the dampness from his face at the same time she wiped hers. "All this noise would bring tears to anyone's eyes" he declared.

As a brown wingleader walked with a brown rider on his arm, a large bronze dragon swooped over their heads, causing both to reflexively duck.

Wingleader and wingrider stood transfixed as a young man in lightweight tunic and trousers met the dragon near the entrance to the storage caverns. New tears fell on both faces as the man was surrounded by a sinuous bronze neck and both were covered by a protective, but shaky bronze wing.

* * *

I'm not this longwinded when talking, but, then, these muses don't stick around much when I'm with other people.

Did I tame the angst muse enough? Or too much? Let me know what you think.

As always, thank you for reading and reviewing.


	4. A Different Perspective

Dragonriders of Pern isn't mine. G'raden is though! ;)

* * *

F'lar and Lessa sat at either end of the long stone table in the Council Chambers. On one side of the table sat Wingleader F'nor and his weyrmate, Brekke. On the other side were Master Healer Tarminas, Journeywoman Healer Loralin, and visiting Journeyman Healer Jostin. The same group had been present at a similar meeting just the previous evening, after G'raden had offered to 'help' B'rand.

Last night they had discussed what Loralin and Tarminas had witnessed two turns ago, and what Loralin had experienced at that same time. They had discussed what G'raden told F'nor, and the possibility and feasibility of allowing G'raden to attempt a 'healing' of B'rand. But, G'raden had hoped to wait a few days. Now, B'rand's bad reaction to fellis was forcing a decision that should have been discussed to far greater lengths. G'raden, at the very least, should be consulted prior to any decisions involving his 'abilities'. But Lessa had declared that his rare day away from Benden should not be interrupted unless B'rand should start to wake again.

Weyrleader F'lar was not a happy man. Brekke had interrupted a rather contentious meeting with his wingleaders to speak with Lessa, who had then called an early end to that same meeting.

The wingleaders of Benden Weyr were justifiably upset, perhaps even frightened by the events of yesterday morning. How could any dragonrider try to kill another dragonrider, during Thread fall no less? Why did this particular bronze rider want to kill this particular brown rider? They had spent an inordinate amount of time discussing how a brown dragon had impressed a woman – F'lar had grown very tired of that old debate within the first few days following that hatching. They wanted to know who had searched the young man who would dare to attempt murder. Who had searched a candidate with so little regard for duty? That search dragon's abilities were obviously flawed, they'd said. Who else had been searched by the same dragon? Why had no one seen any signs of the hate that surely caused this atrocious dereliction of duty? Surely the weyrlingmaster or the rider's wingleader would have noticed something to indicate such violent tendencies. And then they wanted to know what the Weyrleader intended to do.

The questions and accusations had seemed endless. Lessa's interruption had stopped a debate on whether to send both dragon and rider between, or to damage the bronzes wings and drop them on one of the Eastern Islands. Small comfort, the facts of this debacle had not leaked outside the cliffs of Benden Weyr, but it was only a matter of time before holders as well would be demanding answers to the very same questions.

F'lar had welcomed Lessa's interruption. His head throbbed from just the noise of that meeting; the subject had only added to the stress of this entire ordeal. Lessa had been thoughtful enough to order willow bark tea, but what F'lar needed right now was simple silence, time to think, time to review what information they had so far.

Harper Hall had been notified, of course, and Sebell had sent several of his best available information gatherers. They had been making the rounds of the Weyr since yesterday afternoon, and as of shortly after mid-day meal, still had no evidence that anyone had even suspected this possibility, and no motive. L'ret had informed the harpers that the boy had been a bit of a trouble-maker early on. B'rand had seemed to take an immediate dislike to Mara, but had tamed down, and had never done anything to suggest this. Though, thought F'lar, they still didn't know who had tried to poison Klamath. Or who had arranged the ambushes Klamath and Mara had experienced.

And now the healers, and F'nor, wanted to let G'raden try to heal this boy? How could anyone 'heal' a murderer? G'raden, according to F'nor, believed that the anger the boy displayed yesterday was the result of 'fermented fear'.

Last evening, F'lar could not comprehend the concept of 'fermented fear'. He had been awake most of the night trying to ascertain how fear could cause such violent anger. It hadn't taken long to remember the anger he felt at Lessa after she and Ramoth had timed it back 400 turns. On reviewing that situation yet again, as he had done on numerous occasions during the last three decades, he realized that his fear had prompted a rather irrational anger. But his anger had been justified, and he had not attempted murder!

'Fermented fear' had taken considerably longer to fully appreciate. Worried about rousing Lessa, he had paced the weyrbowl last night, twice. He could understand long held fear – he had been frightened from time to time, and for quite some time prior to Lessa's bringing back the Oldtimers. He had feared for Pern and he had feared for the dragons of Pern. Since childhood, he had experienced fear of the return of the Red Star. He had feared that the harper's tales were correct. But, he had known, deep down somewhere, somehow, that they were correct. And then he had begun to fear the fools, dragonriders some of them, who denied the validity of the harper's tales. And he had grown angry at all the people who didn't believe the harpers. But, he had channeled that anger into a plan, and he had executed that plan, and he had been successful. So, if B'rand felt some sort of long held fear, why hadn't he focused the resulting anger in a more productive manner? Surely, that was a matter of choice.

F'lar had returned to Lessa's furs convinced that the boy was merely defective in some way. Nothing could change the past, and there was simply no plausible excuse for attempted murder and dereliction of duty. He had fallen to sleep quickly, convinced that he knew where he stood on this matter.

Less than one candle-mark later, according to the time-piece he now kept within reach at all times, he had woken in a cold sweat from a dream that even stirred Mnementh and Lessa, and probably Ramoth. He had convinced Lessa to return to sleep, that he just needed time to think. He and Mnementh had flown around the outside of Benden Weyr several times trying to clear their joined minds, to no avail. So, they had flown to the fire heights. F'lar had paced back and forth between the star stones for quite some time. He wasn't able to recall the details of the dream and he wasn't able to stop thinking about it.

Mnementh, in his ineffable wisdom, had suggested they relieve the watch rider of the last half of his watch. F'lar had paced for awhile longer and then sat with his back to the western star stone watching a bright star visible through the 'dragon's eye'. The star moved, of course, but within a short while, was visible again, this time above the eye rock. F'lar watched it rise, noticing three lighter stars very nearby. A short while later, a fourth lighter star was visible.

F'lar found himself analogizing, not a luxury he often entertained; those stars could quite easily represent him, his sire, his half-brother, Mnementh, and the late arrival could be Lessa. He counted the fortunes in his life due to those four very important personalities, especially Mnementh and Lessa. He recalled the teachings of his sire, the fellowship with his brother, and the partnerships with Mnementh and Lessa, and the love that underlied it all.

His eyes had wandered during his recollection. When he found the bright star again, it was alone. Rukbat was close enough to rising that the sky had faded from stark black to very dark grey, and the four lighter stars were no longer visible to a human eye. That's when the dream returned.

Suddenly, F'lar remembered being alone; no sire to teach him the importance of honor and duty, no brother to share adventures with, no life-mate to share everything with, no lover to share his life with, and no love from any of them, or anyone else. The remembered loneliness caused pain even now. He remembered fearing the return of the Red Star, knowing he was right, but with no one to help him make plans, no one to help him carry out those plans and certainly no way to have succeeded. He remembered confronting Weyrleader R'gul, alone and desperate to convey his message that Pern had to prepare for the return of Thread. No one believed him, and R'gul, in the dream, had laughed, and turned away as if from a silly child. He remembered the tremendous anger that boiled to the surface of his very being, and he remembered a knife, in his own hand, sticking out of the weyrleader's back. And then the anger had been replaced by lonely fear again.

_Fermented fear_, he had shared with Mnementh.

_Yes,_ his beloved life-mate had responded. _You and me in different circumstances. _

Faranth bless his draconic heart, F'lar had thought in the most private part of his mind, Mnementh didn't realize even he wasn't in that dream.

The last half candle-mark of middle night watch had been sheer torture. Now, F'lar needed someone to talk to. He needed to discuss all the details, but he still needed more information.

When he was finally relieved by a very surprised late night watch rider, F'lar knew he would not be able to sleep. He had gone to the kitchens for a pot of klah, and sat at the head table waiting for Benden Weyr to rise for another day, reviewing all he knew and all he still needed to know.

"F'lar?" _F'lar, dear, we're waiting for your answer._

F'lar snapped out of his musing. _I'm sorry, dear. What was the question? _This telepathy could certainly be handy at times, thought F'lar.

Lessa's eyes held deep concern for her weyrmate. She was considerate enough to not allow anyone else in the room to witness that concern. _Do you have any objections to G'raden attempting to heal B'rand?_

F'lar quickly scanned the people in the room. How long had they been waiting? Each had reason to believe or hope that G'raden could actually heal B'rand of his all-consuming fear-turned-anger-turned-fear-again. "I have no objections."

"Good." Lessa stood and spoke as she walked to the other end of the table. "Ramoth has just informed me that Normond will land with G'raden shortly. And he'll most likely meet Mara in the dragon infirmary. Let's meet there. Brekke?"

"I'll speak to Manora?"

"Thank you."

As Brekke followed the others out of the chamber, Lessa wrapped one arm around F'lar's waist and ran the other up his chest as she studied his face. "Are you all right, dear?"

F'lar searched her deep dark lovely eyes, and smiled. "Just a bit tired, my love. I didn't sleep much."

"Fermented fear?" The day had been so busy, they hadn't found time to discuss his nightmare, yet. Mnementh and Ramoth had obviously been 'talking'.

"No secrets from you, hey?" His mock accusation was followed by a kiss. "Let's deal with this problem, shall we?"

As they walked to the exit, arms still holding each other, Lessa turned smiling eyes to him. "May I ride with you? Ramoth is already with Tagamarth."

"I don't think Mnementh will mind." His slight teasing was met with a slight smile.

They mounted Pern's biggest bronze and flew rather leisurely down to just outside the dragon infirmary. Ramoth and Canth were a bit further, flanking the distraught bronze Tagamarth. The weyrleaders dismounted and walked the last short distance into the huge cavern housing Klamath and a few other injured dragons.

Klamath's raised couch was nearest the bowl as he was least injured and most likely to be going in and out very soon. F'nor and the healers stood on the other side, watching something. As F'lar entered the cavern, F'nor held up a finger requesting silence. On passing Klamath, F'lar and Lessa both saw the reason. Klamath's muzzle, eyes closed, touched the rock couch, Mara was wrapped around his muzzle, and G'raden was wrapped around her. F'lar and Lessa moved quietly to join the others, as they heard G'raden say "Look at me, Mara."

F'lar felt a bit guilty, watching what should be a private moment between weyrmates. He let Lessa take his hand as he noticed that the entire 'audience' would be shielded from Mara's view by G'raden's wide back.

They heard Mara's gentle accusation. "You helped Oldive."

F'lar noticed G'raden's head tilt as he said, almost childishly, "I like him." And then he heard what they had been hoping for. "You know we can help B'rand, too."

F'lar wrapped his arm over Lessa's shoulders as she wrapped hers around his waist.

Mara became protective. "You're too tired, G'raden."

G'raden stood his ground. "This needs to be dealt with now. And we'll all sleep better afterwards."

F'lar definitely agreed with those statements. He hugged Lessa as he saw Mara's auburn waves move to G'raden's shoulder.

A few heartbeats later, F'nor walked toward the couch. "You called, Wingleader?"

F'lar chuckled as the weyrmates standing on the dragon's couch both jumped. He wiped the grin from his face as they turned to see their audience. He was touched by their lack of embarrassment as they continued holding each other – shells, was he tired.

Lessa, still in his own embrace, asked gently, "What do you need, G'raden?" She must have been touched as well, thought F'lar. How odd.

The very large, handsome couple stepped down from the couch. Mara seemed to be supporting G'raden. F'lar wondered if he were projecting his own unconscious desires, and shook his slightly foggy, still throbbing head.

"This is likely to become rather noisy. Perhaps, we could move him somewhere, so the rest of the Weyr won't be bothered. Though . . ." the big man shook his head, "I've never done this with a dragonrider. Tagamarth will need help. If B'rand is anything like yesterday, he's likely to be terrified by this."

"He won't be hurt, will he?" asked Lessa.

"No." G'raden smiled reassurance. "But he will feel rather dizzy for several heartbeats. I'd like G'regg and B'nor to be present. They've helped before and know what to expect and what to do when."

"And what should we expect?" Tarminas seemed ready to bounce out of his boots. F'lar could not remember ever seeing him so excited.

"That will depend a great deal on his state of mind when he wakes." G'raden began to list the possibilities and how each would be dealt with.

F'lar watched the man with interest. He still remembered the slight boy F'nor had been 'forced' to bring to Benden Weyr thirty-some turns ago. His friends had refused search if he were not also taken along, and Benden Weyr had been desperate for candidates. Geraldraden had been seriously injured by his own sire, to the point he could barely stand or walk unaided and was unable to say a full two syllables without stuttering. Two turns later, after 'standing' at each and every hatching with the help of his friends, bronze Normonth had chosen him and immediately changed his name to Normond to keep the boy from biting his own tongue. And now look at him, thought F'lar. Just two turns ago, he was still stuttering, though not nearly as bad as thirty-some turns earlier. Lessa's tug on his belt brought him back to the present.

_Nod at him, dear, please?_

F'lar did as requested and turned questioning eyes to his weyrmate.

Lessa took control. She turned first to Brekke. "Didn't we just clean out an empty store room in the southern tunnel?"

"Yes, and it's quite a way from the nearest sleeping room."

"Good." Now she addressed the other healers. "Take him to the southern tunnel. We'll meet you there to show you which room." As the healers left, Lessa focused on G'raden. "Sebell and Oldive have expressed interest in seeing your abilities in use. Do you mind if they join us?"

"Not at all, weyrwoman. Though, it may not be as exciting as they hope."

The man grinned at Lessa. F'lar wondered when G'raden had become so confident as to grin at her. And when had he stopped calling Lessa 'Lady Lessa'? He shook his head again. "I'll go get the Masters."

"I need your help here, dear." Lessa patted his back. "F'nor can go to Fort. Would Mnementh mind relieving Canth at Tagamarth's side?"

F'lar turned his most charming smile to his weyrmate. Such sweetness, he thought, could only mean that he looked as bad as he felt. "Mnementh will do anything Ramoth asks, dear. You know that." He gently scolded her.

Brekke interjected. "I can send Berd with a message to give them time to prepare." When Lessa nodded, she left the cavern.

Within a very short time, B'rand, still under the influence of fellis, had been moved to the recently cleaned storeroom in the lower caverns. Chairs and glows had been placed around the fairly large, but empty room. Heavy hides had been fastened to the door and stacks of furs were placed around the room to absorb sound. Some of those furs were being used – this room was fairly chilly and had no hearth.

F'lar looked around the room again. Lessa, so stalwart at his side, focused almost exclusively on watching the young bronze rider sleep. She had offered to 'send' Mara a view of the room, not so much for Tagamarth's sake, as for Mara's. Ramoth could just as easily share what she saw through Lessa's eyes, but Lessa had told F'lar that Mara would need a good human view in order to describe events to Tagamarth. Mnementh had informed him earlier that Mara was actually speaking with all the dragons, describing what might happen, explaining what B'rand might feel, and even joining in draconic speculation on why he had done such a horrible thing to Tagamarth; withholding firestone from a dragon during Thread fall was worse than withholding food in a dragon's opinion. F'lar had tried to listen to the discussion through his Mnementh, but draconic logic was not one of his strongest areas of expertise; Lessa was far better, and Mara seemed to understand them well enough to provide a considerable calming effect.

To his other side sat Sebell. He, as well as Tarminas and Oldive, seated further down, was listening intently to Journeyman Healer Jostin describe what he and others had been learning about 'maladies of the mind' while researching at the AIVAS facility - psychiatry, he had called it. F'lar had tried to listen to the young healer, but quickly found his medical terminology to be as effective as a harper's lullaby.

Brekke and Loralin sat on either side of B'rand's low bed. Neither touched the boy after Lessa had warned them that any touch worsened his dreams. Loralin now read quietly from a book about the historical ride of Moreta – she claimed reading had helped Mara when she'd had a very similar reaction to fellis.

G'regg and B'nor sat on either side of G'raden at the other side of the bed. F'lar grinned at the sight of Benden's giant bronze rider sleeping like a wee lad, back against the wall.

Lessa whispered in his ear. "Why are you grinning like a fool, dear?"

F'lar quickly corrected his expression, but grinned at Lessa. "Do you remember when Felessan could sleep anywhere like that?"

Lessa actually smiled. "Not even the cold of between could wake that boy."

"Only in your arms, my love."

Lessa chuckled before returning her eyes to B'rand, but squeezed F'lar's hand in gratitude for the lovely memory.

All waited now for B'rand to wake from his fellis-induced sleep. F'lar checked his time-piece again – they had been waiting in this room now for over one and a half candle-marks. Kitchen helpers had delivered food and drink, but few were hungry for various reasons. F'lar had eaten a small bit, but was concerned that a full belly would only contribute to his already immense fatigue. He overheard Tarminas explaining how much fellis he administered to the boy and a brief, very hushed discussion of his reasoning.

B'nor stood to stretch a bit. G'regg grinned at him as if he had just won a wager. F'lar raised an arm to get their attention – G'raden's head was listing to one side and forward – but to no avail. Before either's attention could be roused, the giant drew in a rumbling dragon's roar of a snore, startling most everyone in the room. Several chairs screeched on the rock floor and Loralin dropped her book. Men chuckled as women giggled. F'lar was amazed to see even Lessa giggle for just a brief moment.

_Do I snore, my love?_

Lessa chuckled. _Not like that, my dear, or Benden Weyr would certainly have a different weyrleader by now._

Except for Loralin's continued reading, the room grew rather quiet for a short while. Less than a quarter candle-mark later, B'rand moaned slightly and everyone came alert.

G'regg and B'nor woke G'raden and all three moved toward the bed. The giant looked far better after his little nap. Loralin and Brekke moved back to the chairs the men had vacated.

F'lar heard the boy gasp in fear at the sight of G'raden sitting on the edge of the bed. F'lar tried to imagine being in the boy's position and had to admit to himself that he would probably gasp as well.

G'raden reached a hand toward the boy's shoulder. "It's all right, B'rand. You're safe and no one is going to hurt you."

The boy whimpered like a frightened child as he rolled into a tight ball away from G'raden. He apparently closed his eyes as he rolled. When he stopped at the edge of the bed he suddenly jolted, seeming just then to notice G'regg and B'nor standing at the other side of the bed. He rolled off the bed and crouched as if cornered.

G'regg held his arms to his side, palms open. "It's all right boy. No one's going to hurt you."

B'rand scurried to get away from them. He drew up short when he saw F'lar and Lessa, and then appeared quite confused when he noticed Sebell, Oldive and Jostin. Tarminas had had the foresight to block the door at the other end of the room.

F'lar was struck by the terror in the boy's eyes. Did he think this was retribution for his previous actions? F'lar wondered momentarily what the next scene might have been in his dream. He shook off that thought and stood slowly, arms open, smiling what he hoped was a kind smile. "It's all right, B'rand. We want to help you." Seeing G'raden, G'regg and B'nor closing in, F'lar took a small step forward.

The boy half growled and half screamed. "I know your kind of help! Leave me alone!" He backed into the arms of G'raden and was quickly trapped. He screamed as he began thrashing wildly. "No! Leave me alone! No!"

G'regg and B'nor helped G'raden get a better grip on the boy's arms.

G'raden, even though the boy's head made full contact with his chin and jaw several times, talked soothingly. "Easy, B'rand. Calm down. No one's going to hurt you. Easy, now. We want to help."

The boy grew frantic and switched instantaneously to full blown anger. "Let me go! I'll kill you if you don't let me go!" He glared at F'lar and Lessa. "I'll kill you all!"

"Easy, B'rand" said F'lar.

"Calm down, B'rand" added Lessa in her rare motherly tone.

F'lar wasn't sure if it was Lessa's calm tone or G'raden's constant soothing talk, but the boy calmed slightly.

G'raden, having both of the boy's arms pinned under one of his, moved his other hand to the side of the boy's head. There wasn't much of a struggle for the big meaty hand to gently hold the boy's head to the side of G'raden's bowed head.

The boy cried now, still terrorized, but almost totally exhausted by his efforts to escape G'raden's firm grip.

G'regg and B'nor stood ready, for what F'lar didn't know, at G'raden's side. B'nor watched G'raden's face as G'regg watch B'rand's.

G'raden's hand twitched slightly, and the boy's eyes opened wide with even more terror. F'lar had never witnessed such horrifying, all consuming terror. B'rand began a high pitched wale that quickly crescendoed into an ear-splitting scream. As the boy's lungs exceeded their full capacity, his eyes rolled up and back and he slumped in G'raden's arms.

The big man's hand moved from a holding position to one that would cradle the boy's now limp head. G'regg and B'nor moved in and held G'raden's arms; he appeared about to collapse. G'regg took over keeping the boy's head from falling as G'raden's arm slumped.

B'rand took a deep breath and began to open his eyes. He regained his footing and stood under his own power, not the least alarmed by the meaty arms still holding him. He looked quite confused as Oldive's hand moved to his arm. "What happened?" he asked the healer.

"Are you all right, lad?" asked Oldive.

"I'm tired, sir." His eyes glazed as he spoke to Tagamarth.

Jostin reached a hand toward the boy's face. "How do you feel, B'rand?"

B'rand looked surprised, but didn't flinch at the young healer's touch. He shook his head and tears began to pool in his confused eyes. "I feel like I just woke from a very, very bad dream." Tears fell as he sought out F'lar's eyes. "But, it wasn't a dream, was it, sir."

F'lar stepped closer to the boy, torn between pity and disbelief. He wondered briefly if all this might be a dream. "No, B'rand, it wasn't a dream." He held out his hand to the boy, who took it reluctantly. "But no one was hurt beyond repair, and no one wants to hurt you." He pulled the now weeping boy closer and into a firm, but gentle hug.

Over the boy's head, F'lar saw G'regg and B'nor nearly carry G'raden to the bed. The man was exhausted. F'lar now wondered how he had done this. How had bronze rider G'raden removed this boy's 'fermented fear'? He held the boy tight as he thought about the F'lar-without-Mnementh of his dream. "It's all right, son."

Lessa patted F'lar's back. "I think we should talk about all this later. There is a very large bronze dragon about to widen the tunnel leading to this room."

B'rand laughed a bit through his tears as F'lar released him. He looked at Lessa and seemed about to say something.

Lessa spoke first, with gentle sternness. "A dragonrider's first priority is his dragon. Go to him, B'rand."

"Yes, ma'am." He had some trouble looking at her so merely bowed his head. He would have turned to F'lar, but the weyrleader slapped him affably on the shoulder.

"Duty calls, B'rand."

"Yes, sir."

F'lar watched the boy walk to the doorway. He might have lost his fear, but he still had quite a few peaks to climb before he could be called a man, or a dragonrider.

As Tarminas opened the door, smiling like F'lar had never seen before, all in the room could hear the gleeful bugles of the dragons even down this long tunnel. F'lar pulled Lessa in close and gazed into her beautiful eyes.

"He may yet be a good dragonrider, Weyrleader. Tagamarth certainly believes in him."

Tarminas, Brekke, and Jostin accompanied B'rand into the tunnel and out to the bowl. Oldive and Loralin now attended G'raden while G'regg, B'nor and Sebell stood nearby.

Oldive, holding G'raden's wrist questioned G'regg. "Does he always get this tired?"

The big bronze rider seemed a bit uncomfortable. "Uhh, no sir. Not always."

B'nor added "It depends on the size of the job."

"How does he do that?" Oldive asked G'regg.

G'regg shrugged. "He's a good wisher."

"Wisher?"

B'nor shrugged his shoulders. "Near as we can tell, he feels what's wrong, wishes it right . . ."

G'regg finished ". . . and if he wishes hard enough, it gets fixed."

"Fascinating! I'd like to speak more with him when he wakes."

G'regg laughed. B'nor spoke. "That won't likely be till morning, Masterhealer."

"Very well, then. I suppose this can wait until his next visit to Fort Hold." Oldive stood and turned rather suddenly on F'lar.

"As for you, Weyrleader, you look almost as bad as he did a few moments ago. I strongly urge you to follow his example."

"I have meetings scheduled." F'lar's duty always took precedence over personal issues.

Oldive raised one finger barely a finger's length from F'lar's nose. "Follow my finger." When F'lar focused nearly cross-eyed on the finger, Oldive moved it away rapidly, then to one side, then to the other side, up and down and around and quickly back to its starting position.

F'lar nearly lost his balance trying to follow that finger. When it approached his nose, he closed his eyes.

"As I thought" said Oldive. "Your meetings will be far more productive if the leader can focus" he paused for effect, "on the facts" he wriggled the finger still before F'lar's nose, "presented him." He finally touched that finger to the scowling weyrleader's nose.

Lessa convulsed with barely suppressed laughter under F'lar's arm. F'lar grinned at the impudence of this friend who knew him far too well, and then sought out Sebell. "I'm not going to win this one, am I?"

Sebell grinned broadly and shook his head. "It does not appear likely, my friend."

F'lar glared at the Masterhealer for a few moments – the man didn't even flinch – and cocked his head slightly. "Very well, Masterhealer."

F'lar was escorted to the bowl by Lessa, Oldive and Sebell. The two Masters spoke non-stop about the marvelous event they had just witnessed, not allowing F'lar room for a single word. At the entrance, they all stopped and admired the scene before them.

B'rand lovingly oiled the Thread scores on his stretched out bronzes neck. He didn't speak out loud, but Lessa could hear Tagamarth's replies and reassurances. All noticed the slowly swirling blue and green eyes of the big bronze, even beneath one closed eyelid.

Tarminas and Jostin stood halfway from the tunnel entrance to the dragon pair with one of the dragon healers. As F'lar and escorts approached, F'lar heard them talking about recovery times and potential problems.

Brekke had walked toward the lake to meet up with F'nor. The brown rider now approached the group with Brekke under one arm and Mara on the other. He seemed quite pleased with himself, even winking at F'lar as they approached.

Mara let loose of F'nor's arm and her smile dissipated somewhat on seeing her weyrleaders. F'lar noticed that she seemed rather exhausted as well. He knew how much of a toll calming a distraught dragon could be from having observed Lessa, but that didn't change the fact that she had breached not one, but two fundamental rules.

"Mara!" he called as they came closer.

"Yes, Weyrleader!" She continued her approach and stood straight and tall an arm's length before him.

"Meet me in council chambers."

"Tomorrow!" amended Lessa.

Mara fought a twitching lip when F'lar winced slightly.

"Until then, rider, I want you to think about alternatives to your actions yesterday."

"I've already done so, sir."

"And your conclusions?"

"Under the exact same circumstances, I would do exactly the same as yesterday, sir, with the exception that I would hope to maintain better control of my anger, sir."

"Really!" He glared at her for just a moment. "Think again, rider! And think about this. If you were in my place, how would you punish two riders who have broken so many rules?"

The big woman appeared about to argue, but, to her credit, didn't. "Yes, sir!"

"We'll meet first thing . . ." he wasn't allowed to finish.

"As soon as Mnementh calls you." Lessa glared as she held F'lar's arm. "Until then, you will tend to Klamath."

Mara looked back at F'lar and waited for his nod. "Yes, ma'am. Yes, sir."

Lessa dismissed her with "G'raden is in the third room to the right."

"Thank you, ma'am." She looked back to F'lar. "Sir?"

"Go."

"Yes, sir." She nodded and turned sharply before leaving their presence.

As Mara disappeared down the tunnel, Sebell turned to F'lar, smiling slightly. "She has certainly changed in the last two turns!"

Both F'lar and F'nor harrumphed in response.

As F'lar was led to waiting Mnementh, Sebell couldn't resist asking one more question. "I'm curious, Weyrleader. If you had been in her position yesterday, what would you have done differently?"

F'lar stopped despite tugs on his arms and glared at his friend. "That is totally irrelevant, Masterharper!"

"Ah. Of course, it is!" Sebell's smile grew as he shook his head. "Rest well, Weyrleader."

* * *

And, now, back to the story.

Thank you for reading! Please review!


	5. First Day of a New Life

Disclaimer: Pern still ain't mine – if it was, I'd be there.

* * *

Once safely transferred to their weyr, G'raden lay drained of energy on their bed as Mara began undressing him.

He had slept for almost a candle-mark on the bed in the storage room before waking disoriented, hungry and ready to go home. G'regg, B'nor, and Normond had all been adamant that G'raden ride with one of his friends. G'regg, being a bit bigger than B'nor escorted G'raden to his weyr on Arlith, while Mara was taken by B'nor and Perneth after gathering food and drink for the two weyrmates. None had eaten much when offered by the kitchen workers, and all were now quite hungry. G'regg and B'nor returned to the kitchens after G'raden had eaten a bit and was safely in his own bed.

Normond curled into a loose ball on his couch in the outer weyr, and very quickly fell asleep. Klamath had fallen asleep shortly after B'rand was reunited with Tagamarth.

Mara spoke quietly. "Sit up." She helped him sit and tugged his tunic up his thick torso and over his bulging arms and unsteady head. She helped him lie back and watched him doze again as she unfastened his belt and trousers. "Lift." His legs helped a bit as she slid the trousers down and off his tree trunk legs and over his already bare feet.

G'raden looked quite peaceful as he lay on his back, arms spread alongside either side of his pillow. Mara kissed his full lips gently and chuckled at the lack of response. She stood, placed a hand under his hip and another under his shoulder. "Roll over, G'raden."

With only a slight grumble and considerable help from Mara, the big man did as instructed. He repositioned his pillow and shuffled into a comfortable position.

Mara straddled his hips and began the massage techniques junior weyrwoman Brendeen had taught her. G'raden's low purr convinced her she was doing a satisfactory job. She worked her way slowly up his back, down, and up again before moving to his shoulders and neck, and then his arms. She gently worked the muscles on his upper arms and then his forearms. As she massaged his hands and fingers, his fingers captured hers.

"Get some sleep, love" he rumbled.

Mara whispered into his ear. "I'm trapped."

"Mmm." A smile tweaked the corner of his mouth. "Keep me warm, my beautiful brown rider."

Mara chuckled as she thought about how to proceed. She leaned closer and kissed his cheek. "As you wish, my handsome bronze rider." She scooted down his back, causing a few tired chuckles, and repositioned her legs. She kissed the back of his neck and laid her head on the back of his shoulder, fingers still firmly, but gently in his grasp.

Within a few heartbeats, both slept in peace and contentment.

* * *

Mara woke to the cool touch of salve being worked into her back. She was on her side of the bed, so must have slid off of G'raden sometime during the night. She took a deep breath – that wasn't numbweed – and turned her head away from the wall. "Morning handsome."

"Morning beautiful." G'raden stopped his ministrations to kiss her cheek.

"That's not numbweed."

"Do you need numbweed?"

Mara considered the sensations she was feeling and smiled back at her weyrmate. "It only itches!"

"And no sign of infection. In a couple of days, you should be cleared to fly between again."

Mara laughed with delight, but only for a few moments. "Did you get enough sleep?"

"Mmm hmm. I haven't slept that well since" he grinned, "a couple of nights before that last Thread fall."

Both laughed at the memory of that long and wonderful night. Mara shuddered a bit at the memory of some of those sensations.

G'raden put hands to either side of her hips. His hands ran up her sides and landed on the bed as he leaned over to whisper. "Not yet, my love." He kissed her cheek again, slowly and gently, and then her ear. "Soon" he crooned in his deepest bass voice.

Mara shivered and then chuckled. "You are so cruel."

G'raden scooted his hands closer to her chest and ran a line of kisses down the un-scored sections of her back.

_You're up!_ Klamath sounded particularly happy this morning.

G'raden stopped kissing right away, indicating that Klamath had addressed both weyrmates.

_I'm awake, but not up yet._

_Oh. The healers say I can stretch my wings this day. I might be able to fly soon._

_Wonderful, my love! I'll hurry down._

"He's jealous." G'raden pretended to pout.

"He likes it as much as I do!" Mara rolled to one elbow and then sat with G'raden's help. "But he knows 'soon' means 'not yet'."

G'raden helped her off the bed and then pulled her back to his lap. "Let me finish this, or it will only itch more."

"No more torture?"

"If you insist." He wrapped one hand around the front of her waist as he continued applying lotion to the scores on her back.

Mara caught his hand as it crept up her side. "G'raden" she scolded.

"Mmph, sorry." He moved his hand back to her waist as he rubbed lotion on her lower back.

Mara caught his hand again as it slid across her belly and down. "G'raden!"

"Shoulders." He scooted further back on the bed and dropped her between his now spread legs. One hand still around her waist, he pulled her in real close as he spread more lotion across her shoulders.

Mara caught herself giggling at his antics.

"Head forward." He moved his hand from her waist to her breast. "Wouldn't want you to fall." After rubbing lotion into her neck, he squeezed with his other hand, causing her to arch involuntarily. "Mmm," he purred, "you can do more of that if you'd like."

Mara laughed as she wriggled her hips even closer in.

_Mara?_

G'raden groaned.

_Coming, dear._

"Serves you right, you cruel man." Mara scooted off the bed and backed away, G'raden's hand sliding down and eventually reaching out to empty air.

"Soon" he crooned with longing in his eyes.

"But not yet" she teased with more sway than usual as she walked away.

When Mara was dressed, Normond carried her and his life-mate down to the main living cavern. The sun was halfway to its zenith, so the weyrmates walked back to the kitchens to locate carry-along food. They each downed a meatroll before reaching the bowl again. There, they separated with a quick kiss. G'raden left on Normond to 'at least make an appearance' as his wing drilled for Thread the next day, and Mara walked quickly to the dragon infirmary.

Klamath waddled out of the infirmary as Mara approached. Two dragon healers walked alongside. Mara ran the last dragon length to reach her big brown dragon. He dropped his muzzle to the ground and closed his eyelids as she reached her arms around and hugged. After a few moments, Mara turned to the healers, beaming with joy.

"He's healing remarkably well. We just want him to stretch his wings a little right now. We'll ask you to make sure he doesn't stretch too far. Don't want to tear open any of those scars."

Klamath was led further out into the bowl and asked to spread each of his wings, fully extending only one at a time. Mara concentrated on what he was feeling as the healers stood on tables to have a close look at the not totally healed, scabbed scars. Dragon and rider were ecstatic that he could spread each wing almost to its full reach. Rider and healers applied oil liberally to all his scars and he was asked to stretch one more time. This time both wings extended to their design limits. Mara was told that he would now be oiled each candle-mark until the scabs fell off. Perhaps later this day he would be allowed to fly a short distance.

Brown dragon and rider waddled and walked a short distance from the infirmary. The brown lay down, but stretched both wings out to near full width to soak up the summer sun. His rider sat underneath one wing as they discussed where they would fly first when she was cleared to ride him. Watching the happenings in the northern portion of the bowl, both saw Tagamarth land just outside the healer's cavern, and both saw B'rand walk out to hug his beautiful life-mate.

Tagamarth and B'rand walked south until B'rand noticed Mara with Klamath. He stopped and seemed about to turn in a different direction.

Mara waved at the boy and motioned him to come closer. Klamath bespoke Tagamarth relaying the same invitation. Mara stood and walked a few paces to meet the young man. "Good day, B'rand."

"Good day, Mara." He could not bring himself to look at her.

Mara, hearing his shamed thoughts, took the next step. "It's history, B'rand. This day is the first day of a new life for you."

B'rand hugged himself, but didn't know what to say to the woman he had tried to kill just two days earlier.

Mara held out her hand. "My name is Mara, rider of brown Klamath." When the boy hesitated, she continued. "That's a beautiful bronze dragon. Are you his rider?"

B'rand looked at her, slightly confused for just a moment. A tear dropped from one eye as he took her hand. "I'm B'rand, rider of bronze Tagamarth. It's a pleasure to meet you, brown rider Mara."

Mara released his hand and gripped his forearm. "Will you join us this fine day, bronze rider B'rand?"

"I'd be honored to join you, brown rider Mara."

"Ha. Honored. That's too much, B'rand." She slapped him gently on the arm and pulled him toward Klamath. "Come sit in the shade with me?"

They sat and talked for almost a candle-mark, their dragons stretched out neck to neck, Tagamarth keeping a protective eye on B'rand. During that time, Mara learned that B'rand had been labeled at birth by his own dam as a 'girly boy'. 'Girly boys' in his small cothold were feared and hated and treated worse than stray canines. He still remembered a rag doll he had found in the refuse pile as a toddler. He told Mara that the doll was the only one who never called him names, and never hit him. He had truly loved that doll. That was what he had reached for when his dam threw it into the fire. After a bit of gentle pressure from Mara, he finally told her he had called it 'Goobee'. Just saying the name caused mournful tears. They talked for awhile about Goobee as if it had been a real person; Mara realized that a loved doll in a cot where no one else seemed to care, was more real to a toddler than any human could have been. They both mourned Goobee's demise until healers, dragon and human, approached.

"There you are, resting in the shade!" Loralin smiled cheerfully as she walked right under Klamath's outstretched wing, patting his side on the way. "We bring oil for dragons and lotion for one rider." With her was the young journeyman who was studying 'maladies of the mind'. He showed remarkable bravery by following Loralin into the tent of Klamath's wing, though his eyes did survey the entire situation quickly and repeatedly.

As the dragon healers started working on Tagamarth's neck, Mara helped Loralin raise the back of her tunic. She pulled it over her head but held it across her chest to avoid embarrassing the two young men.

"May I help?" B'rand still had tears in his eyes as he almost pleaded. His thoughts betrayed that he was desperate to make amends for his actions.

Mara smiled at the boy. "I don't mind. I really itch!"

B'rand almost chuckled as he moved behind her. He allowed Loralin to demonstrate the proper technique to work in the lotion without disturbing the scabs.

Mara heard a barely restrained sob as the boy's hand touched one of her scabs. "G'raden says these are service marks, proof that I have fought and won a battle with Thread. Klamath thinks they might earn me some sympathy if displayed at the right times. What do you think, B'rand?"

B'rand's voice broke, but he managed to finish his statement. "I think it's a shame that such beautiful skin should be scarred for life."

"That's what I thought about Klamath's hide, but the more I look at it the more handsome he looks to me. He looks more seasoned, more mature, now. He looks like a survivor." She turned her head to see the young man. "Like you, B'rand. And me."

B'rand looked into her eyes, wondering what her full story could be; he had never paid attention when others talked about her two turns ago. He had just impressed Tagamarth and was so sure of his future that this woman's history just wasn't of any interest. He nodded and then smiled before returning his attention to her back.

The journeyman healer had observed their discussion with interest. Mara heard him wondering if it was a good idea for these two riders to spend time together alone.

Mara smiled at the young man. "We were just discussing B'rand's loss of a very dear friend when he was a child."

The healer blinked twice, quickly, suddenly realizing he was being invited into their conversation. "Oh. Can you tell me about that, B'rand?"

B'rand, embarrassed, repeated what he had told Mara, with a little prompting at times. The healer blinked rapidly three times when B'rand revealed that his long lost friend was a rag doll someone had thrown away, but listened intently to the remainder of the story. The only thing the boy left out was the name of his doll.

The dragon healers moved on to work on Klamath, setting up tables to oil his wings, back and neck. Mara, her back fully moisturized, asked if they needed or wanted her help, feeling guilty, but thinking perhaps she could be as helpful where she sat. Klamath, far less selfish than when he was young, agreed that she should stay with B'rand and Jostin.

Jostin asked more questions and B'rand eventually described how he had been treated up until the time he ran away at the age of fourteen. He had run to the nearest large hold, where he worked as a drudge for two turns before being searched by a Benden blue dragon. He impressed Tagamarth his first time on the hatching sands, and still couldn't believe his great fortune on that day.

"You were called a 'girly boy' when you were young" ventured Jostin. "Do you know why?"

B'rand snorted. "I have no idea why, and believe me, I've spent a lot of time wondering the same thing."

Jostin grew more brave. "Do you prefer to be with men?"

B'rand snorted again. "No! As a matter of fact, when Mara told the whole weyr that she never dreamed about sharing furs with a woman, I did some serious evaluations of my own dreams. And I have never dreamed of being with men in that way." He shook his head, obviously still quite disturbed.

Mara wondered too, what a small child could have done to cause people to label him a 'girly boy'. She looked to Jostin. "Some people get ideas in their heads, and nothing can change their minds. Why is that?"

Jostin sighed. "It depends on the person. Sometimes it's pride; they don't want to admit that they made an error. Sometimes it's fear of being seen as a fool, or just not perfect. Could be lots of reasons." He shrugged his shoulders.

"How is a person supposed to get past being labeled so inaccurately?" Mara wasn't only thinking of B'rand's extremely unfortunate label. She remembered her sire repeatedly calling her 'just a wherry brained girl', and after two turns at Benden Weyr, she still heard those words in her head every time she made even the slightest mistake.

Jostin smiled. "Based on conversations with Master Oldive, you seem to have already figured that out."

Mara frowned. "That's it? Accept that its history? Is that what AIVAS says?"

Jostin laughed now. "If all the information the Aivas Facility has on this subject were printed into books, those books would easily fill the main cavern here at Benden Weyr. But, based on what I and others have read so far, yes, that's it! Most people, though, have a great deal of trouble accepting what has happened to them, and most of what would be in those books deals with how to help them come to that seemingly simple conclusion."

B'rand had been listening intently. "How did you reach that conclusion, Mara?"

"I had a lot of help from dragons." She smiled at the memory of all the dragons she had talked with in Keroon.

"I'd like to talk to you about that sometime." Jostin felt that B'rand should be the main topic for this day, but did have some theories he hoped to research while at Benden Weyr.

"I'd like to hear more about that, too!" B'rand was not comfortable being the center of anyone's attention.

Jostin gave in, partially excited, but with a twinge of guilt. "Tell us about how the dragons helped."

"Dragons think differently than we do. They have much shorter memories for one thing. They might remember that someone or something is dangerous, but they most likely won't remember why. They have trouble with details."

"Do you think Tagamarth will forget what I did to him?"

"Absolutely! Within a few days, unless you keep reminding him."

"How do you not think about something that hurts so much?"

"Change your focus. Think about something else. Think about what makes you happy, or what is good right now, or the future."

B'rand bowed his head and chuckled half-heartedly. "I don't know my future."

"Think about Tagamarth. He's your future."

"What if they separate us?"

Tagamarth moaned behind Jostin. The young man turned wide eyed to see the bronzes orangeish-yellow eyes swirling slowly.

"I cannot imagine F'lar and Lessa allowing that to happen."

"After what I did?"

"That's the key, B'rand. 'After what you did.' Why would they punish Tagamarth?"

"What are they going to do to me?"

"I don't know, B'rand, but worrying about it only upsets Tagamarth, and it isn't helping you either."

"Hmph, you're right." He thought for a moment, but old habits caused some confusion. "If you were in my position, what would you think about?"

"I could be in your position, you know? If I didn't hear dragons and if they didn't talk to me, I could very easily be in your position."

Klamath let out a distressed groan.

Mara smiled contritely. "But, I won't think about that!" She patted and rubbed Klamath's side. "Instead, I'll think about what a lovely day this is, and how Klamath's Thread score is healing so well. I'll think about how much Klamath loves me and how much I love him. I'll think about flying, and oooo, I'll think about mid-day meal!" She pointed at a group of people moving toward the main living cavern.

B'rand laughed, remembering all the teasing she used to get for eating so much. She apparently still had a healthy appetite.

As they walked to the dining hall, B'rand, with just a bit of coaxing, revealed why he had disliked Mara so much. The first day she was shown through the weyrling barracks, B'rand had been tending Tagamarth. Her voice had jerked back a memory and he had feared, quite irrationally he agreed now, that his dam had come for him. That initial fear had only grown each time he heard her voice, or saw her. Though, now, he was able to say that his dam had never smiled as much as Mara, and that her voice had never held any kindness.

Jostin gently suggested that he focus on those differences in the future.

The dining hall grew suddenly very quiet as the three of them entered, B'rand between Mara and Jostin. Mara nodded at the weyrleaders, who each returned rather curt nods. She then located G'raden, who was sitting with his friends, rather than his wing; tomorrow's fall would be in the afternoon, so wing meals would probably begin in the morning. It didn't require much coaxing to convince B'rand and Jostin to join Mara and G'raden at a table with G'regg and B'nor.

Jostin expanded his focus as the 'brothers' began regaling all with tales of their first Thread scores, slightly embellished, of course, and far more amusing now than all those turns ago. Soon, Jostin and even B'rand were laughing as much as eating, sometimes having trouble with the latter due to the former.

G'regg repeatedly asked, and even begged, to see Mara's Thread score. When he offered, with lewd pantomime, to help apply lotion, he was rewarded with a firm, but non-damaging slap.

Jostin was astonished by the interactions of these dragonriders. He had never spent time in a weyr before this visit, and had assumed that dragonriders would be just as civilized here as they were among holders and common folk. He hoped to find time to learn considerably more about dragonrider inter-personal relationships.

Mara overheard his thoughts and hoped to speak with him later – G'regg was hardly an ordinary dragonrider, and his seemingly insensitive behavior was not what Mara wanted Jostin to remember about Benden Weyr.

As the dining hall emptied, bronze rider G'regg surprised everyone. He held out a hand to young Jostin. "I hope we can talk more later." When the young man looked somewhat frightened, G'regg grinned. "I'd like to hear your opinions on trauma-induced and age-affected maladies of the mind."

Jostin blinked twice rapidly, took a breath, and blinked two more times before finally responding with a smile. "I'd like to hear your observations as well! I'm sure dragonriders encounter quite different situations than most Pern folk."

As they agreed to a time to meet, Mara thought she might not need to correct the young healer's impression of dragonriders. G'regg would astound the young man. She wished she could witness their meeting.

_Mara._

_Yes, Mnementh._

_Your presence is required in Council Chambers._

_Yes, Mnementh. I'm on my way._

"Well," Mara turned to G'raden. "I've just been invited to a meeting, so I hope to see you at evening meal."

G'raden immediately understood the implications and took Mara by the shoulders. "It'll all be fine."

"I know." She wrapped her hands in his summer work vest and pulled him close enough for a quick kiss. She patted his chest and pushed away. "See you later."

G'raden chuckled as she strode confidently toward the Weyrleader's quarters with a barely noticeable sway of her hips.

G'regg perched his chin on his grinning friend's shoulder. "Mmm," he hummed, "Think she'll ever look at me like that?"

G'raden scowled at the face next to his. "Nope." He elbowed his friend in the ribs and started walking.

The three bronze riders walked with Jostin and B'rand to the healer's cavern, G'regg teasing B'rand ever so gently as they went. Jostin and B'rand entered the cavern and the 'brothers' separated to attend to the various projects they had planned for the afternoon.

* * *

Sorry for the long delay. Reality has been playing 'Catch the Fresh Cow Pattie' with me.

Next chapter is just days away.

Reviews and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated!

Thanks for reading!


	6. Decisions

Disclaimer: As hard as I wish, and wish, and wish, Pern still isn't mine.

* * *

Mara ran lightly up the stone stairway to the Council Chambers two steps at a time. She loved the power her slimmer legs afforded her now and was thrilled that she could keep up with most of the riders in morning exercises.

At the top of the steps, she half curtsied and half bowed to bronze Mnementh and then walked toward the Weyrwoman's weyr. She turned again and took a deep breath as she walked down the tunnel to the Council Chambers. The curtains at either end were both down, indicating a meeting was in progress. Before passing the second curtain, she reached for the knocking stone in the niche on the wall. She hadn't even touched it when the curtain was pulled aside.

"Enter." Wingleader F'nor held the curtain as Mara entered the chamber.

Mara grew a bit concerned as she took a few steps into the room. There was not even a glimmer of the ever present humor in her wingleader's eyes. She fought the urge to eavesdrop on his thoughts as he walked past her to a point near center of the long table. F'lar sat at the far end of the table, head in his hands as if nurturing a headache.

"Here." F'nor pointed to a spot near him and stood facing the wall across the table.

Mara stepped smartly to his side, an arm's length away, and assumed a similar position, staring at the far wall.

Weyrleader F'lar slid his chair noisily away from the table and began pacing back and forth across that end of the room.

Mara could see Weyrwoman Lessa sitting at her end of the table, arms folded. Peripheral vision did not allow Mara to see her expression.

F'lar stopped pacing and spoke with deceptive calm. "A dragonrider has refused to feed his dragon firestone, thus endangering another dragon and rider and all those beneath him." He paced from wall to wall again and stopped. "Another dragonrider has assaulted a fellow rider in full view of the entire Weyr." His calmness was fading. "And, a rider barely out of weyrling training has been seen 'timing it' during Thread fall!" He seemed barely able to suppress his anger now. "On a brown dragon no less!" He stomped a foot and began pacing again.

Mara stared intently at a small indentation in the far wall. She could not believe that F'lar was still this angry about the events of two days ago, but refused to drop the shields she had placed so carefully to block her weyrleader's thoughts. He surely had his reasons for acting so angry, and she would wait for him to divulge those reasons.

F'lar stopped pacing and slammed an open hand onto the table. He hissed slightly when neither brown rider so much as flinched. "Not one, but three," he banged the table again for emphasis, "major violations of 'Dragonrider Code' have occurred all within barely an hour's time!" He stood and glared at one of the major offenders.

Mara wondered at his use of the word 'hour'; he was one who believed the people of Pern should use Pernese terms.

"What do you have to say for yourself, rider?"

Mara turned her head to address her weyrleader.

"Don't you dare look at me rider, or Faranth help me . . ." he held a fist up in warning.

"F'lar!" Lessa warned him from the other end of the table.

Mara turned quickly back to study the far wall. She had never seen F'lar so angry.

"Answer me." F'lar spoke through clenched jaws.

"Yes, sir." Mara swallowed hard as she quickly recalled the question. "'Timing it' was necessary, sir, to prevent injuries below our position."

"You have no training in 'timing it'!"

"It was not a conscious decision, sir." Mara heard F'nor suck in a breath through clenched teeth beside her. "We both knew we had to get back quickly."

"So you 'timed it'?"

"Not intentionally, sir."

"And your assault?"

"I believe that was necessary as well, sir, to impress upon the other rider the severity of his choice."

"You don't believe his wingleader and weyrleaders would have impressed him sufficiently?"

Mara stammered slightly. "I . . . I'm sure you would have, sir."

F'lar now bellowed. "Then why?"

"I was angry, sir!" Mara didn't have time to regret her returned bellow.

"Angry enough to kill a fellow rider?"

She took a deep breath and lost sight of the far wall as she recalled the feelings and thoughts of that moment. It took several breaths to find the right and honest words. "Quite possibly, sir."

"If I hadn't stopped you . . .?"

A tear fell as Mara imagined what might have happened. "I don't know, sir." She did flinch when the table was banged again, but managed to focus on the same imperfection she had studied earlier.

F'lar resumed pacing, ostensibly due to indecision, but he kept an eye on the brown rider being questioned. She remained at a position of attention, eyes focused on the wall even as her entire body shook as if from cold. Her breathing was slowing – she was calming down. F'lar wished momentarily that he had her ability to 'hear' other people's thoughts. He was already certain that she had managed to keep her 'shields' in place – that had been rather obvious from the start of this meeting.

Mara wondered about the discipline she might receive. What punishment would be appropriate for someone who just admitted she might have killed another person?

_I am with you._

Klamath's strong presence strengthened Mara's resolve to accept whatever discipline her weyrleaders might assign. She changed her focus and waited. The dragons were enjoying another beautiful northern latitude summer afternoon.

Lessa observed all three of the riders before her. Her responsibility was to ensure the well-being of the dragons and their riders. Rider discipline was her mates' responsibility, and while she had her own opinions on this matter, she would allow F'lar to exercise his prerogative, within reason.

F'nor watched Mara as well, grinning just slightly. Some seasoned riders had trouble dealing with F'lar's questioning of their decisions and reasoning. This recent addition to his wing was holding up remarkably well. He turned to F'lar and nodded.

"Sit," ordered F'lar.

Mara reached forward to pull out a chair.

"Down here." Lessa patted the table.

Mara looked to F'lar, unsure if that would be safe yet. When he nodded sternly and began walking the other side of the table, she moved closer to the Weyrwoman. She too, wore a stern expression, with no hints of anything other than anger in her eyes. Mara pulled out the chair nearest Lessa and sat stiffly. Not sure where to lock her eyes, she chose a spot on the far wall again, between Lessa and where F'lar would soon be sitting.

F'lar sat and watched the woman across the table for a moment. "Look at me."

Mara snapped her eyes to his and swallowed when she realized there was no anger present. But he was still quite stern, as if he had managed to control his anger.

"Given the exact same circumstances, what would you do differently?"

"I would sincerely hope to control my anger more effectively, sir."

"Anything else?"

Mara sighed. "I'm open to suggestions, sir."

"Turning the board on me, are you?" F'lar did not sound amused.

Mara had played a game or two of Chess with this man, so knew what he was implying. "Not intentionally, sir. I can't think of anything I would do differently, Weyrleader F'lar."

"Well." F'lar crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned back in his chair. "On to the discipline phase. Did you think about my question last evening?"

"Yes, sir."

"And your answer?"

"We both need to be punished, sir."

"That wasn't the question."

"I would never presume to suggest . . ."

"I ordered you to make such presumptions. Let's start with B'rand. Why should I even bother to punish him – he's been 'healed' after all; healed of all the fear that caused all the anger directed at you."

"He's also fully aware of what he did two days ago, sir, as is everyone else in this Weyr, and probably quite a few people all across Pern."

F'lar winced at the last statement. He already had demands for meetings from three Lord Holders, most likely to discuss his intentions in regards to two extremely dangerous riders under his command. "So why don't we all just forgive and forget?"

"That would be my choice, sir, but . . ."

"I didn't ask for your choice, rider. How should a weyrleader respond to his actions?"

"He should be grounded, sir. Placed on probation."

"Probation? For how long?"

"Until he proves himself trustworthy again, sir."

"And how can he possibly prove his trustworthiness?"

"I would suggest repeating second turn weyrling training, sir."

"You consider that punishment?"

"Others will, sir, and he and Tagamarth need to rebuild their relationship as well."

"That seems far too . . . kind."

"Extra duties, then, on top of weyrling training. Confine him to the Weyr for a month or two."

"Tagamarth needs to stay in shape."

"The bowl of Benden Weyr is plenty large enough for even a big bronze to get plenty of flight exercise."

"And how could B'rand possibly prove himself?"

"Perhaps after some time, he could be assigned as one of L'ret's assistants. That should test his sincerity, his temper, and his dedication."

"Watch duty?" offered F'nor.

"Shouldn't he have to earn that right, sir?"

"Good point."

F'lar used F'nor's distraction to glance at Lessa. Her chin raised just slightly as her eyes danced with an 'I told you so' gleam. When Mara turned back, he sighed. "That all seems appropriate. Weyrwoman?"

"Retraining and probation should satisfy all concerned."

"Wingleader?"

"I agree."

"On to you, then. How does a weyrleader punish a rider for assault when everyone in the Weyr feels that rider was justified?"

Everyone felt she was justified? Mara was shocked. "A weyrleader . . . any leader, sir, can't make decisions based on popular opinion alone. Assault is wrong under any circumstance."

"The standard punishment for assault is confinement to quarters."

Mara chuckled just briefly. "That wouldn't be a punishment for me, sir." When F'lar showed no signs of sharing her amusement, she offered an alternative. "There are empty weyrs, though. Perhaps I should be confined to one of them."

"Too easy" declared F'nor.

"Extra duties, solitary duties."

F'nor interjected. "What's to keep you from spending that 'solitary time' talking to the dragons?"

"If trust is an issue, sir, the dragons could be ordered to not speak with me."

F'lar resumed his questioning. "And how do we punish unintentional 'timing'?"

"The same as you would intentional 'timing', sir."

"Why?"

"Intentional or not, a rule was broken, sir."

"Lives were saved."

"If you allow one rider to 'time it', even, or maybe especially, to save lives, how many other riders will try the same thing?"

"I think timing in a Fall would be great." F'nor's casual attitude made it clear he was baiting a trap. "No Thread would ever hit the ground. The queens could stay at the Weyr."

Mara played his game. "The smiths wouldn't need to make or repair flamethrowers."

F'nor leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands behind his head. "Holders could sit outside and watch the show."

F'lar and Lessa each cleared their throats rather loudly.

Mara grew more serious. "It would require considerably more training."

"Why?" asked F'nor. "You were never trained in 'timing'."

"And I will never intentionally try to 'time', unless ordered, of course. What's to keep a young or inexperienced rider from timing back too far? Or into the same spot they left? And how much 'timing' can any rider or dragon do before they start to age prematurely? How will holders feel about giving up their children to that possibility?"

"Think of the glory!"

"Think of the accidents."

"Enough!" F'lar slapped his hand on the table.

"There will be no 'timing it' during Falls or any other time!" declared Lessa.

"Then this rider needs to be punished publicly, ma'am."

"How?" asked F'lar.

"Extended confinement? Even more extra duties?"

"The Records Room." Lessa seemed to be talking to herself.

"Yes." F'lar smiled for the first time since the beginning of the meeting.

"No. That is far too severe!" F'nor acted truly shocked and even a bit fearful.

Mara had noted her wingleader's poor acting abilities soon after they first met two turns earlier. Suddenly, she realized that this entire meeting had been an act. They knew what her 'punishment' would be before she was even called into this room. But why? This was definitely another test of some sort. Perhaps they weren't as upset over her breeches of 'Dragonrider Code' as they had seemed. Perhaps they were merely testing her decision making capabilities.

"A severe punishment to fit a severe crime." Lessa actually smiled at Mara, almost sweetly.

"But . . ." Mara was about to tell her weyrleaders that she had been wanting to spend time in the Records Room ever since she first heard about it.

"No 'but's," declared F'lar. "This is what will happen. Your punishment for assaulting a fellow rider is as follows: you are grounded for one full seven-day, you will be confined to a private weyr during the same seven-day period during which time you will have no visitors and no discussions with dragons other than Klamath, and those are to be limited. I will be giving you reading and writing assignments each day and reviewing them each morning before the first meal. You will be allowed to continue your morning exercises, but you are not permitted to speak to anyone. You may pick up your meals in the dining hall, but you will eat in your weyr and return dishes to the kitchen at the next meal. You will, of course, be permitted to bathe Klamath as needed, but there will be no playing. Oiling can be done in your weyr. Klamath is permitted to move about the Weyr bowl and even up to the ridges, but not to leave – he will have to eat from the feeding grounds." He looked to Lessa. "Have I forgotten anything?"

"Her scoring needs attention."

"You will be permitted to visit the healer's cavern as needed, but you are not to engage in any unnecessary conversations. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir. When will this begin, sir?"

"As soon as the healers give you full clearance to fly. I expect you to inform me immediately."

"Yes, sir."

"For 'timing' without permission, without training, and without direction from your seniors, your punishment will be as follows: after your confinement, you will spend one full month in the Records Room, from after morning meal until evening meal every day unless engaged in mandatory training or Thread fall. During that time you will research 'timing' and prepare a full report on the history and hazards of 'timing'. You will also assist in copying old records and any other duties our Weyrwoman might assign. During the same month, you will also stand the middle night watch, with no visitors, no discussions with dragons other than Klamath, and only necessary conversations with others. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir. I understand."

"Good. F'nor, please help Brekke." Mnementh had just informed him of her arrival.

F'nor jumped up from his chair to hold the curtain aside as his weyrmate entered with a tray full of drinks and snacks. He took the tray from her and placed it on the table within Lessa's reach.

Lessa began pouring wine and water for all at the table.

Brekke thanked F'nor and greeted the weyrleaders and Mara. "B'rand and Jostin will be here in a few minutes."

"Good," said F'lar. "If you two will sit over here, please." He indicated that Brekke and F'nor should sit on his side of the table.

"Mara, every person in this Weyr believes you had every right to attack B'rand, including me. But," he held up a finger and tapped the table with each of the following words, "not . . . in . . . public!"

"Yes, sir."

"If you had not taken him to task, that duty would have fallen to F'nor or me. But we would have done so in private, and not until we had firm control over our anger. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"As for your 'timing it'. . ." his eyes lost focus just slightly. "We'll have to discuss that later."

Lessa stood and walked to the curtain. She pulled it back to reveal B'rand and Jostin, both somewhat startled.

"Come in. B'rand, you sit next to Mara." She held out a hand to the young healer. "Welcome, Journeyman Healer Jostin. Thank you for coming." She walked him part way to his seat next to B'rand.

"It is an honor to be included in this matter, Weyrwoman Lessa." He also nodded to and acknowledged Weyrleader F'lar, Brekke, and Wingleader F'nor.

As courtesies were exchanged, Mara turned to face B'rand. He sat hunched up as if fearing a beating. She nudged his thigh with her knee to get his attention. When he turned his face to her, she glanced at his back and straightened her shoulders, and then smiled encouragingly at him as she raised her chin just slightly. He took her meaning and followed her example, sitting straighter and looking far less frightened.

"Well," began F'lar in a fairly light-hearted manner, "I think we all know why we're here. B'rand?"

The young man faced his weyrleader and almost maintained eye contact. "Yes, sir." He did manage a slight smile.

F'lar smiled back kindly, but not overly friendly. "Can you tell us what happened two days ago?"

B'rand bowed his head and closed his eyes. "Yes, sir." Mara's knee hitting his thigh kept him from slouching too far. "I tried to kill Mara, sir."

"And how did you do that?" F'lar sounded exceptionally unemotional.

"When I saw a large spread of Thread coming, I refused to give Tagamarth the firestone he requested."

"Knowing that Tagamarth would be scored?"

B'rand turned haunted eyes to F'lar. "I never thought of that, sir. I didn't . . ." He closed his eyes. "I wasn't . . ." He hung his head, shaking it back and forth.

F'lar spoke gently. "Go on."

Mara's knee pressed against the side of his thigh, and stayed, an unnoticed show of moral support.

B'rand smiled slightly, sat up straighter, and raised his head, but was unable to look any higher than the table. "I didn't think it through, sir." Now he looked at F'lar. "I never wanted to hurt Tagamarth."

"Just Mara."

"Yes, sir." His eyes dropped again.

"Why?"

"I . . . I hated her, sir."

"Why?"

"She frightened me."

F'nor sniffed loudly. "Mara scares a lot of people."

B'rand chuckled. "I don't know why, sir. She's never been anything but kind and helpful to me . . . except when I really deserved otherwise."

F'lar continued his gentle questioning. "How did she frighten you into wanting to kill her?"

B'rand spoke slowly. "The first time she came into the weyrling barracks, something she said, or the way she said it, I don't know what it was, but I thought my dam had found me. That fear just grew and grew every time I heard her or saw her. And I hated feeling that fear. And I came to hate her because of it."

"You don't seem to fear her now."

The young man let loose a muffled guffaw. "No, sir. I'm not even real sure why I ever did."

"I know why!" F'nor's phony contempt immediately caused a slight smile on B'rand's face. "Because she's so big and scary looking, right?"

"Not if you look at her face, sir, especially her eyes."

Mara was a bit shocked, but turned a big grin to her wingleader. When he sneered, she batted her eyes. When F'nor growled, F'lar cleared his throat loudly, effectively ending the brown riders' game.

"Tell us what happened last night" said the weyrleader.

B'rand had relaxed considerably when the little power play act was not deemed improper enough for the weyrleader to comment. "Yes, sir." He thought for a few moments, reliving what he remembered of 'the healing'. "When I woke up and saw bronze rider G'raden, I thought he was surely going to kill me." His eyes dropped to the table as he continued. "When I saw his friends, I knew they were going to help. And when I saw you, sir, ma'am," he looked at each of the weyrleaders with wide eyes, "I couldn't believe that you were going to watch them kill me." His eyes filled with tears. "I said some horrible things. I sincerely apologize Weyrleader F'lar, Weyrwoman Lessa."

When both weyrleaders nodded acceptance, B'rand's tears fell as he closed his eyes. He took a deep breath and continued. "When G'raden took hold of me . . ." he shuddered with the memory. "And then he held my head against his . . ." He now visibly shook from the remembered fear.

"What happened, B'rand?" asked F'lar gently.

"Everything started spinning. I felt prickly all over, and the feelings all swirled, and swirled up to my head, and then suddenly, it all just stopped! And I was being held by G'raden, and you were watching, and I didn't know why you looked so concerned . . . until I remembered what happened the day before." He shook his head and grimaced. "It's all still like a really, really bad dream." After a few moments, he looked squarely at F'lar. "How can I ever make amends for what I've done, sir?"

F'lar sighed as he leaned forward, resting his arms on the table, palms down. "We're working on that B'rand. You do realize that you've not only broken a trust with Tagamarth, but with every dragonrider on Pern?"

B'rand closed his eyes and nodded, but looked directly at F'lar before answering solemnly. "Yes, sir."

"Journeyman Jostin, what is your impression of 'the healing' we witnessed last evening?"

Jostin took a deep breath, quickly composing his response. "Well, sir, I've never seen such a thing! There's nothing in any of the records about any such 'healing'." The young healer smiled at the incredible statement he was about to make. "And yet, I have witnessed with my own eyes a remarkable transformation that seems to indicate B'rand has indeed been 'healed' of his overpowering fear."

Wingleader F'nor huffed. "He still looks pretty scared to me."

Jostin smiled at F'nor. "Quite understandable fear, sir. He knows full well the seriousness of his actions."

Lessa spoke up, quite gently. "And what do you fear now, B'rand?"

Tears filled his eyes again. "I fear never being a worthy or trusted dragonrider, Weyrwoman Lessa."

"It will take considerable hard work to rebuild what has been shattered. Are you willing to do that work, B'rand?"

"Oh, yes ma'am! I'll do whatever it takes! I owe it to Tagamarth, I owe it to Mara, and I owe at least that much to both of you, Weyrleaders."

"Good" began F'lar. "Do you understand that your being 'healed' does not preclude the necessity of punishment for your actions?"

"Yes, sir." B'rand now watched F'lar with anticipation.

"This is how it will begin. Effective immediately, you are confined to Benden Weyr for the foreseeable future. You will also be confined to your weyr for a period of seven days, as soon as Tagamarth is cleared to fly with you riding. I, Weyrwoman Lessa, Weyrlingmaster L'ret, and Journeyman Healer Jostin will be your only visitors during your confinement. You will pick up your meals in the dining hall and return to your weyr, returning your dishes at the next meal. You will be allowed to bathe Tagamarth as necessary, but it is to be done quickly and efficiently. Oiling can be done in your weyr, and Tagamarth will hunt inside the weyr."

B'rand nodded understanding at each point, no longer frightened but extremely eager.

"During your confinement, you will be expected to read through all of the weyrlingmaster's first turn class transcripts. You will be tested daily, perhaps several times each day. If it takes longer than seven days to read all the transcripts, your confinement will be extended, but with less restrictions.

"After your confinement, if Weyrlingmaster L'ret approves, you will begin retraining with the second turn weyrlings. You will not, however, be permitted to leave the Weyr without permission and senior rider escort until further notice. You will also be expected to perform extra duties as the Weyrlingmaster and his assistants see fit. Any questions?"

"No, sir."

"You will need to prove yourself at each and every step, B'rand. Be prepared to be tested at any time in any number of ways."

"Yes, sir."

"Journeyman Jostin, I understand you will be staying with us for awhile?"

"Yes, sir."

"Excellent. We will expect daily reports on B'rand's mental state. You have unlimited access to B'rand during his confinement, but we ask you to remember he does have considerable reading to do. We'll introduce you shortly to Weyrlingmaster L'ret, and brief you on how to access B'rand's weyr."

"Yes, sir."

F'lar turned to Lessa. "Have I forgotten anything, Weyrwoman?"

"Mating flights?"

"Ah, yes." F'lar took a deep breath as he turned back to B'rand. "We do not wish to inhibit Tagamarth, but we do need to be sure of your mental condition before we can allow you to participate in mating flights."

"I understand, sir." B'rand was not surprised that a few of the green riders must have complained about his growing aggressiveness in the last turn. His fear and hatred of Mara had begun transferring to women in general and he had never allowed Tagamarth to catch a male rider's green. That, too, he realized, would have to change if he was to take proper care of his bronze dragon.

"There are ways to allow your bronze to fly, but to prevent him from catching his prey. L'ret, or just about any other rider can help you with that if necessary."

"Understood, sir."

"Any questions?"

"No, sir."

"Comments?"

B'rand smiled self-consciously. "I'm extremely grateful that you're giving me this opportunity, Weyrleaders. I sincerely hope that I can earn your trust. And yours, Mara."

"Tagamarth saw something special in you two turns ago, B'rand." Lessa smiled tightly. "Remember that in the turns to come."

B'rand's eyes overflowed at the reminder of his impression of Tagamarth. "Yes, ma'am."

"Well." F'lar slapped a hand on the table, and glared at Mara. "We still have unfinished business. Brekke?"

Brekke smiled warmly. "I'll introduce Jostin to L'ret?"

F'lar nodded and smiled. "Good idea. Thank you. B'rand, you go with them. I believe L'ret has your riding straps."

B'rand grimaced, remembering how he had thrown them to the ground, and knowing how L'ret would probably react to such careless treatment of valuable equipment.

F'lar smiled at the young man. "Consider this your first test."

"Yes, sir."

"I expect you to let me know when you are cleared to fly Tagamarth."

"Yes, sir. May I start reading the transcripts before being confined?"

"That will be up to the Weyrlingmaster. He may have some hide work for you to do first."

B'rand grimaced again, but followed that with an understanding smile. "Yes, sir."

As Brekke stood to commence her assignment, all stood. Lessa took Jostin's hand and walked him to the outer end of the tunnel. The young healer blushed mightily at her attention, but was able to converse intelligibly.

Mara put a hand on B'rand's shoulder. He looked about to break down from relief. She could hear his hopeful and determined thoughts, and his happy conversation with Tagamarth. "You've still got a long road to travel, B'rand."

B'rand smiled as tears escaped yet again. "But the road is going in the right direction. We'll make it."

Mara walked him to the first curtain. F'lar's throat clearing kept her from going any further. She patted B'rand's shoulder and turned back in to the room.

"Where were we, rider?" F'lar sounded stern even though he smiled just slightly.

"I believe you were about to comment on my 'timing it', sir."

"Sit down, rider. We'll wait for Lessa. And enough 'sirs'. Discipline is over. Now we just talk."

"Yes, . . . F'lar." Habit almost caught her again. She gathered Jostin and B'rand's mugs and slid them toward the snack tray. No one had even sampled the snacks yet. "May I?" she asked F'lar.

Both F'lar and F'nor laughed at the hopeful look on her face. Both reached for snacks as F'lar answered. "That's why they're here."

Lessa returned in far better spirits than earlier. "What's your impression of B'rand?" she asked Mara as she took her seat.

"I think he'll be all right, Lessa. He's truly confused about how his fear got so far out of control, and is determined to do right by Tagamarth. He really wants to be a good dragonrider."

"That's good to hear. I hope you'll keep us informed of anything you might 'hear'."

"Of course. And I'll pay more attention from now on."

"Speaking of attention," began F'nor, "how did you not know he hated you so much?"

"I did know, but his actions were never anything to be concerned with. I did keep an eye on him."

"You should have told me" said F'nor in an uncharacteristically caring tone.

Mara smiled at her wingleader. "What could I have said?" She affected a whiny pout. "He doesn't like me. Make him stop."

F'lar and Lessa laughed as F'nor scowled. "That's what I would have expected from a girl brown rider."

"Well, sir," Mara emphasized the 'sir', "I am not a girl brown rider. I am a woman brown rider!" She grinned and just for fun, batted her eyelids a few times.

Lessa scolded slightly. "We would appreciate it if you would let us know about such things in the future, Mara. We all understand your abilities, and I don't think any of us" she pointedly glared at F'nor, "will consider your comments to be petty complaints."

"If his thoughts had been directed at anyone else . . ."

"Then you never heard about his aggressive nature with the green riders?" asked Lessa.

Mara was shocked. "No, ma'am." She quickly made the connection between B'rand's hatred of her with his treatment of other women. She half smiled ruefully. "I still have a lot to learn about people."

F'lar smirked. "We have a little more experience in that area, so please feel free to express any concerns."

"Yes, . . . F'lar."

"But, first," he affected sternness, "about your 'timing'." When Mara grimaced, he laughed. "You and Klamath seem to have a natural ability to 'time it' when circumstances warrant. We don't want to inhibit that ability, Mara, but we don't want to encourage unnecessary 'timing' either."

"Understood."

Lessa added, "You seem to understand the dangers, but younger riders wouldn't take the risk seriously."

"Weyrlings always seem to hear the stories of 'timing' and all seem to think they can do is just as easily as you did, Lessa."

"Easily?"

"Most weyrlings are quite young!"

"I hope you at least set this batch straight!"

Mara chuckled. "After a brief discussion with L'ret, I was pretty successful at deflating their confidence. But now? I think I'll have to hurry with that report."

F'lar and Lessa both laughed. F'lar spoke. "I think a month in Records will dissuade most of them!"

F'nor chuckled. "And a month on middle night watch will dissuade the rest of them!"

Mara felt guilty as everyone laughed. "You do know that this won't exactly be punishment for me, don't you?"

Lessa raised her chin. "We know that dear, but no one else does, and we expect you to play the role appropriately."

Mara nodded. "Understood." She thought about these people's leadership talents. They weren't punishing her and Klamath for doing what came naturally, but were giving the illusion of punishment for the benefit of the other riders in Benden Weyr and all across Pern. Her only true punishment for the events of two days ago would be the seven days of confinement, which she knew she deserved, and that would be bearable. Seven days without speaking to G'raden or the dragons would be difficult – they were her anchors, her sources of sanity when things became confusing or irritating. Perhaps it was time to see if her memories could be used to maintain that sanity.

They spent the next couple of candle-marks discussing disturbing thoughts Mara had heard from other people. F'lar, Lessa and even F'nor gave their insights into each of the people Mara mentioned. Some had been raised in situations nearly as difficult as Mara's and would probably always have paranoid or angry thoughts, but had learned to act and speak more acceptably. A few did raise concerns, and Mara was informed that the issues would be addressed, probably through wingleaders and seconds spending extra time talking with the individuals. Often, Mara was told, just airing a problem could bring about a solution.

By the end of the afternoon, Mara understood a little more about human psychology through the eyes and minds of the well respected leaders of Benden Weyr.

_Mara? I hate to interrupt._

Mara grinned at Lessa. "Will you excuse me for just a moment?"

Lessa nodded, having also heard the excitement in Klamath's thoughts.

_What is it, love?_

_The healers say I can fly if you will come down._

_Oh, that's wonderful! I'll come as soon as possible, all right?_

_All right. Hurry! I want to hunt that young bull before anyone else gets him._

Mara and Lessa both laughed.

F'lar perceptively understood the meaning of the draconic communication. "I suggest you enjoy this evening, brown rider. I doubt the healers will clear Klamath fully until at least tomorrow."

"Yes, sir." Mara felt a mix of exhilaration and regret. "How will the rest of the Weyr be informed of our punishments?"

F'lar smiled. "Wingleaders and department heads will be informed very shortly. By evening meal, you and B'rand should be the recipients of considerable pity."

Mara laughed, eyes closed and head shaking. "I'll prepare myself."

Before leaving the meeting, Mara gathered all the empty mugs and skins onto the tray. She took the tray with her to be dropped off in the kitchen.

"Thank you, F'lar, Lessa, F'nor." She scowled just slightly at the last name. "My duty to each of you, and your dragons."

F'nor stood and opened the first curtain for his rider, and walked with her to the other end of the tunnel. Before opening that curtain, he scolded, "You have just been seriously reprimanded for unacceptable behavior, rider. I suggest you wipe that smile from you face before you proceed."

Mara grinned widely, and tried to do as instructed, without much luck. "Will the sadness in my eyes not be sufficient?" She concentrated on seven days without her anchors.

"Let me see." He turned her to face him. "Oooo." He sounded pained. "That should suffice. Keep it up, girl." He grinned at her scowl and opened the curtain.

"Yes, Wingleader." She took a deep breath to reinforce her act and left the tunnel, bowing to Ramoth who had taken Mnementh's spot on the ledge before bouncing down the stairs to the sandy bowl of Benden Weyr.

* * *

Sorry for the delay. Real life blah, blah, blah.

Thanks for reading, and reviewing!

You are my anchors!


	7. Consequences

Disclaimer: Pern ain't mine. I just play here.

* * *

Bronze riders G'raden, G'regg, and B'nor left the main cavern after picking up an afternoon snack. G'regg, carrying a small stuffed carisak, noticed Mara bouncing down the Weyrleader's steps.

"Well," he pointed, "must not be too bad."

The three bronze riders met the brown rider part way. G'raden offered to take the tray she carried, but Mara wouldn't allow it. The sad look in her eyes told G'raden far more than her almost always present smile.

"How'd it go?" he asked.

Mara grimaced. "Can we talk about it later?" Her smile returned. "Klamath gets to try his wings as soon as I get to the dragon infirmary."

G'raden walked with her into the kitchen area. After she dropped off the tray, he asked "Are you all right?"

Mara remembered the act a little too slowly. "The next five seven-days will be a little difficult" she said.

G'raden caught the shift in her expression. He grinned briefly and then frowned and nodded. "We can talk about it later." He put his arm gently around her shoulders and noticed that she held his waist a little tighter than normal. "How's your back?"

Was that a slight gleam in his eyes? Mara grinned. "It itches."

G'raden chuckled and moved his hand down to gently rub her back.

"Oh, a little lower, please. Ah, now the left side? Oh, yes!"

"I love it when a woman says that!" G'regg grinned lasciviously as the weyrmates exited the cavern.

"Bet you don't hear it often, do you G'regg?" teased Mara.

G'regg pretended injury as B'nor consoled him as all four riders walked along the western wall of the bowl toward the dragon infirmary.

G'regg's inquisitiveness finally got the better of him. "So, what happened up there, Mara?"

Mara frowned at the grinning man. "Wingleaders will all be informed sometime before evening meal, G'regg."

"We're all wingleaders. You can tell us."

Mara scowled until another group of riders approached. "What's in the bag, G'regg?" She reached for the carisak he carried.

G'regg danced out of her reach deftly. "Just helping out the ladies."

As the other riders passed, each nodding and smiling at the little disturbance, Mara grinned at G'regg. "Oh, you are such a good man, G'regg!"

G'regg puffed up and stated loudly "I do what I can for the ladies of Benden Weyr."

Mara grinned wickedly until the other riders were out of hearing range. "How long do you think you can keep that secret, G'regg?" She pointed at the carisak.

"At least till Turn's End. Then people won't think anything of it."

"Did you get a good selection?"

G'regg and B'nor both lit up. B'nor started their answer. "Ohhh, they're working on a quilt with pinks and greens."

G'regg continued, nearly bouncing. "Some of the pinks are perfect skin tones!"

B'nor added. "And the greens cover almost the entire spectrum!"

G'regg grinned as he faked grabbing at Mara. "You changed the subject, woman! Are you going to tell us what happened?"

Mara pointed south. "There's Klamath! Hello, love!" She ran ahead of the men to greet her excited brown dragon.

G'raden and B'nor laughed as G'regg spoke to no one in particular. "Shards, she's getting good at evasion."

"We'll all know before evening meal" consoled G'raden.

"Yeah," G'regg growled "some of us before others, huh?"

G'raden grinned. "Just one of the advantages of being weyrmates."

Mara ran the remainder of the distance to the infirmary. Klamath was busy surveying the herd further down the bowl, so she stopped to talk with the healers.

"I know he's anxious to catch his own meal," began the older healer, "but we really don't want him to stress his wings just yet."

"Understood" said Klamath's rider.

"He hasn't eaten much in the infirmary." The younger healer was fairly new to the Weyr.

"It's not crunchy enough" stated Mara with a smile.

They all walked further out into the bowl, Klamath's neck constantly craned to the south.

"We just checked and oiled all of his scars." The more experienced healer led the conversation. "There are no more scabs. How does he feel to you?"

"Klamath, love. Pay attention, please." Mara placed her hands on his shoulder and concentrated on his physical condition.

Klamath relinquished his watch of the Weyr's herd to put his head forward. He stretched his wings slowly, as requested, to full spread, raised them to their highest point, and slowly lowered and folded them to his sides.

Mara grinned at the healers. "It feels good. There's just a tiny bit of tightness near the main connecting joints."

"Good. Ask him to rotate those joints, please."

Klamath did as requested, glancing south a few times, while Mara again concentrated on the tight area.

"Just a little tight."

"Hmm. Let's take a quick look at those joints."

Klamath groaned as he rolled first one way and then the other so the healers and Mara could inspect the tight scars. When released to stand, he immediately looked south again.

"Good" said the healer. "Now if you'll ask him to please fly very carefully around the bowl a couple of times." He smiled as Klamath moaned.

"All right, Klamath. Real easy, now. No hunting just yet. If you tear any of those scars, you won't be able to hunt for several more days."

Klamath moved a little further out and launched into the air with grace. He began a steady, but easy ascent as Mara concentrated.

"If there's any sign of discomfort, he needs to come down."

"He's doing fine" assured Mara. "Those scars near the wing joint do feel as if too much stress might crack them, though." Her eyes glazed as she addressed Klamath. "Did you hear that, Klamath? Good. If you can't hunt today, I'll ask the herd master to protect that bull for you, all right? Yes, I see the one you want."

The newer healer turned a puzzled look to her new mentor. Mara wasn't even looking south toward the herd pens. The older healer explained. "She can see through his eyes." To Mara, he said, "All right, bring him in, please, and we'll take another look at those joints."

Klamath cunningly landed facing south, still eyeing the young bull that looked so tasty. He grudgingly rolled from side to side allowing the healers to poke at his scars and then to oil them yet again, groaning only occasionally. He listened to what the healers were saying to his rider, but his concentration was elsewhere, so he didn't pick up the gist of their discussion.

The elder healer winked at Mara before walking closer to Klamath's head. He affected quite a worried frown before saying, "I don't know."

Klamath turned his head to study the healer. His blue and green eyes began to show swirls of yellow.

"The herd master doesn't like holding back good beasts, you know."

Klamath's eyes developed slightly orange swirls.

"If he's really careful?" Mara pretended to beg on her dragon's behalf.

The healer sighed deeply and shook his head. After Klamath's eyes grew even more orange, he finally smiled. "If you are very, very careful, Klamath, you may hunt one beast. But then you need to come back here so we can check you over, all right?"

_Thank you, healer._ Klamath crouched and shot into the air before anyone could change their minds.

"He talked to me!" The healer was astounded.

"Of course he talked to you." Mara grinned at the man. "You talked to him, not me." Not all dragons would talk even if addressed directly, but Klamath was one of those who believed in returning courtesies, even to humans other than his rider.

Klamath flew high around the bowl and then swooped down on the unsuspecting young bull with very little extra stress on his damaged hide. He took the quickly dispatched bull to an unoccupied area of the bowl and savored every bite as if he hadn't eaten in months. He chewed far more than normal, or necessary, enjoying the crunchiness of fresh herdbeast.

Mara and the healers watched as the brown dragon enjoyed his meal. The newer healer had not witnessed a dragon hunt before and concentrated on her mentor. The elder healer explained that Klamath preferred 'crunchy' meat due to the trace minerals in the bones that were vital to a dragon's bone strength. The young woman was given an opportunity to question Mara on various subjects dealing with her brown before Klamath returned to their vicinity, his eyes swirling a very satisfied blue with touches of green.

Klamath did not complain or moan or groan as the healers and Mara poked, prodded and re-oiled his scars. He did, however, belch, causing all to laugh. He didn't mind – he was ready for a nap.

The healer was happy with what he found as he inspected the brown, but a bit worried about the tightness. He didn't want Klamath to attempt between until that tightness was gone. More oil and another day should do the job, he declared.

Mara caught herself wondering how long they could stretch the 'tightness' and then mentally kicked herself for even considering such deception. Deception, she reasoned, would only delay the inevitable – might as well get it over with; the sooner, the better.

They left Klamath to nap, and walked back toward the infirmary. "We'll be oiling him again just after evening meal, if you'd like to help."

"I would! Thank you!"

"If you're here, we'll let him fly some more and see what happens." The healer was a little confused by Mara's lack of excitement.

"Wonderful." Mara couldn't quite get her eyes to match her words. "Klamath will love that."

They parted at the entrance to the infirmary. G'raden waited just outside, alone.

"Where are G'regg and B'nor?" asked Mara.

G'raden grinned mischievously. "Too many people asked what was in the carisak."

They both laughed as they walked north again. Mara needed lotion on her itching scars and had promised Loralin she would visit the healers before evening meal.

G'raden was anxious to hear the healer's opinions of Mara's condition. He was looking forward to a long awaited amorous evening with his weyrmate, beginning with a long bath, if her scars were healed enough – if not, a sponge bath could be just as nice.

"Klamath's healing well." G'raden tried to fill in an unusual and uncomfortable silence.

"Mmm hmm. The dragon healers say he might be able to go between tomorrow."

G'raden caught a sad note in her voice. "Are you going to tell me what's going on?"

Mara stopped and turned to face him. "After the healers? Up in the weyr?"

"All right. It's not too bad, is it?"

Mara smirked. "Not as bad as some will think, but bad enough."

The big bronze rider held the tall brown rider's hand as they walked in silence to the healer's cavern. He wondered what could be causing her to be so melancholy. If the punishment wasn't too bad, she should be talking about other things. While they often shared long periods of silence, mostly inside their weyr, but sometimes while just enjoying a rare sight or good music, she was seldom this silent during the day.

Loralin, with Tarminas approval, declared Mara almost fit for duty; another day should have her ready to fly between. She was warned, however, not to soak for too long in the bathing pools, and not to scrub the scars too hard with sweetsand.

Bronze Normond met the weyrmates outside the healer's cavern and was quite talkative with Mara as he flew them up to the weyr. He was very complimentary of Klamath's fast healing and of his smooth dispatch of that delicious looking little bull. He was anxious to have Klamath back up on the ridge as some of the greens looked ready to fly in a few days and he thoroughly enjoyed discussing 'the girls' with Klamath.

The thought of the greens flying started a new thread of depression in Mara, but she hid it quickly from Normond. She wouldn't be able to participate if she was in confinement. Perhaps she could convince Klamath that flying with the greens might be too stressful on his fresh scars.

G'raden felt Mara's mood drop briefly and as soon as they landed, turned quickly to help her dismount. He caught her gracefully and held her tight for several long moments as he convinced Normond that Arlith and Parneth might be just as willing to discuss the greens.

Normond complained just a bit about Arlith's crude way of talking about the girls, but took the hint and flew back to the ridge of the weyr to enjoy the sun and the slightly glowing greens.

G'raden moved two simple chairs from the wall opposite Normond's couch to the ledge just far enough back that the floor of the bowl was not visible, and they would not be visible to anyone in the bowl.

Mara told him about her punishments and both laughed about her being forced to spend time in the Records Room and to pull middle night watch. Her sleeping schedule would have to be adjusted, but they would have several candle-marks together at the beginning of each day after her watches in relative peace and quiet, and she would finally be able to read through Benden Weyr's history from the weyrwomen's different perspectives.

Mara was still a bit depressed when Normond was informed of a Wingleader's meeting to commence in the Council Chambers immediately. She reminded G'raden, unnecessarily, that she probably shouldn't have told him anything.

"Do you want to come down with us? Or would you like to wait until we're done?" asked G'raden as he moved the chairs back to the wall.

"I think I'll stay up here." She thought she might pack for her seven days away from this weyr and this man. It might be easier to get it out of the way now. She also didn't feel quite up to facing too many people right now, though she couldn't say why if she had been asked.

G'raden gave her an extra loving hug and a kiss before leaving on Normond. Mara walked back to the inner weyr and began packing. She wasn't to be allowed any extra activities, so didn't pack any of her stitching, or reading. F'lar had informed her later in the meeting that she would be allowed one book of her choosing. Knowing that he would be assigning other books, she decided on the dictionary in case his books contained words she wasn't familiar with.

She sorted through her ever increasing stack of casual clothing, smiling. Manora wasn't very good at 'trading' outsized clothing for better fitting clothing. Every time Mara tried to trade in one item of clothing, she left the storage rooms with two or three items, so had learned to take in clothing she liked to fit her now slimmer figure better.

She checked on Klamath and found him still napping peacefully, so decided to delve into the reason for her depression. Her punishment wasn't all that bad, she mused. Seven days confinement should pass quickly with reading and writing assignments. That wasn't what was bothering her, so she began reviewing the meeting with F'lar, Lessa and F'nor.

She packed three casual outfits – she could wear each two days if she couldn't wash them. She also picked out a long loose shirt for night wear, and smiled at the thought of never needing such in this weyr. Not knowing where 'her weyr' would be, she thought a night shirt might be a safe choice.

And then she recalled F'lar's seemingly angry questions. Had she been angry enough to kill B'rand? Her answer to F'lar had been rushed. She hadn't taken enough time to thoroughly consider her answer. She sat heavily on the bed as she realized that yes, she had been angry enough to kill. B'rand had endangered Klamath and his own Tagamarth, either dragon could have died, the riders and dragons below them could have been injured or killed, Thread might have burrowed into Benden Weyr protected land, and B'rand had sneered at her afterwards. She had wanted to kill him for his disregard of so many lives and the valuable reputation of Benden Weyr. She had wanted to kill a fellow dragonrider.

And what if F'lar hadn't stopped her when she was about to hit B'rand? She remembered the feeling of utter power she had experienced. Her stomach convulsed as she remembered wondering if her sire had felt that power, even as she was about to hit that young, frightened and crying boy. She tried to imagine not being stopped and realized that the next punch would have been to his face. And with the power she was feeling, that punch would have caused considerable damage, quite possibly fatal damage.

When G'raden entered the small room almost a candle-mark later, concerned that Mara had not heard Normond's greetings, Mara was sitting on the bed. She held some article of clothing clutched to her chest as she seemed to be studying her right hand. She stretched and spread her fingers and then slowly made a fist, turning her palm up and then down and up again.

"Mara?" The big man moved slowly around the bed.

"I would have killed him, G'raden." She held out her hand as if it were something grotesque. "With this hand, I would have killed him."

G'raden pulled up a chair and sat facing her. He gently sandwiched her offending hand between his and searched her eyes. "We would have stopped you, Mara."

"But if you hadn't, or if I had hit him the first time . . ."

"Mara." G'raden's gentle but strong voice demanded her attention. "You will drive yourself insane with the 'what if' game."

"But . . ."

"No" he said firmly. "What happened, happened and nothing can change that. You can look at it and make decisions about the future, but nothing will change what happened."

"What should I have done, G'raden? Should I have just let him go about his routine as if nothing had happened?"

"Ideally, yes." Her look of disbelief prompted a grin. "But ideal situations are rather rare, aren't they?"

"What would you have done, G'raden, if he had purposely let Thread fall on you and Normond?"

His grin faded quickly as his eyes glistened with burgeoning dampness. "I hope I could have stayed away, Mara, because my first punch would have killed him."

Mara was not completely shocked. She had heard about his temper, but had never witnessed anything such as G'regg and B'nor sometimes talked about. Not knowing what to say to her sweet, loving, giant weyrmate, she dropped her chosen night shirt to her lap and put her hand over his.

G'raden appreciated the gesture and understood the lack of words. How could anyone respond to such an admission? "Dragonriders take care of each other, Mara. And so do friends. G'regg and B'nor, and sometimes F'nor and F'lar have always been around to keep me from losing complete control of my temper. F'lar helped you that day, and if he hadn't, I or any number of other riders would have. What you need to remember," he squeezed and shook her hand for emphasis, "with pride my beautiful brown rider, is that your first punch did not make contact with human flesh. That says a great deal about who you are, Mara."

Mara sighed deeply, studied their linked hands, and finally lifted one corner of her mouth as she looked up at G'raden. "All right. Enough thinking about the past. How'd your meeting go?"

"Ha! Everyone was in agreement that your punishment was far too harsh. The Records Room is bad enough, but a full month? F'lar stood up to them, though. 'Assault is never appropriate' he declared. And everyone eventually agreed."

"How'd they react to B'rand's punishment?"

"Oh, just the opposite. Most felt that he's getting off far too easy, though most of them haven't talked to him this day, so really don't know how remorseful he is. F'lar informed them though, that each step of his punishment is subject to review and could be extended."

"Mmm. I told B'rand that he had a long road ahead of him. You know what he said?" When G'raden shook his head, she shared what she took to be a very telling answer. "He said 'At least it's going in the right direction.' I think he'll be all right if people give him a chance."

"With you on his side, he should be just fine. Are you hungry? The dining hall was already filling when I left the meeting."

"Yes, and no." She let G'raden help her stand and watched as he sweetly kissed the knuckles of her right hand. "Do you think it would be all right if B'rand sat with us? He probably doesn't have many friends this day."

"Did you have the healers look at this?" He was looking at the small scabs on her knuckles. When she shook her head, he shook his as if scolding. "G'regg is already looking forward to teasing B'rand. Hope he can take it."

"At least G'regg knows when to stop. I'm more concerned about when he's put back with the weyrlings."

"L'ret won't let any teasing go too far."

"If he knows about it." Mara hadn't told anyone about some of the more extreme teasing she had received in weyrling training. To distract G'raden from asking, she changed the subject. "I guess it's time to face the crowd. I'm really hungry."

G'raden allowed her diversion to work. She would learn eventually how many resources a good weyrlingmaster had at his disposal. "I think I smelled pork roasting in the kitchen."

Normond flew the weyrmates down to the bowl. On the way down, Mara kissed G'raden on the back of his neck, causing both rider and dragon to shiver with anticipation of after meal activities.

Normond landed near the healer's cavern, much to Mara's dismay. Her hand was inspected and treated and she was properly scolded by Master Healer Tarminas.

The weyrmates talked and teased as they walked to the dining cavern. On entering, as expected, the room fell almost totally silent until G'regg stood at his table and very loudly directed the weyrmates where to sit after acquiring their fair share of this evening's wonderful meal.

B'rand and Jostin were already sitting with 'the brothers', and G'regg and B'nor were regaling them with stories from the past. The brothers seemed determined to keep the mood at their table light despite the vengeful or pitying looks being directed their way.

Mara was quite aware of the thoughts accompanying those looks, and relieved that B'rand couldn't hear some of them. He would have to prove himself to quite a few people and Mara knew that some of those people would never trust him, believing him to be of bad blood and therefore always subject to similar poor judgment. Some would never understand what a life of fear could do to a person. And some would never believe the past could be overcome. Mara hoped B'rand was not one of those.

"Uh oh" said G'regg. "Mara's thinking again."

"Nothing wrong with that!" declared G'raden.

"We all know how dangerous it is to let any woman think too much" blustered G'regg.

Mara's thoughts had been interrupted, and she already knew this game. G'regg wasn't the only one who teased her about thinking too much, and Mara was in no mood to be teased just now. B'rand and Jostin were looking at her, both wondering how she would respond to what most would take as an insult. Mara scowled and turned slowly to face G'regg. "Why is it dangerous, G'regg?"

G'regg winked at Jostin, who just stared in wide eyed disbelief. G'regg looked instead to B'rand, who was grinning. "Women are devious! Isn't that right?"

B'rand stopped grinning and held both hands up in surrender as he looked back and forth between G'regg and Mara.

"We're only devious when we have no other way of getting back at you, G'regg."

"So, what were you thinking about, then?"

Mara took a deep bored breath. "Do you really want to know?"

B'nor took G'regg by the shoulders from behind and shook him. "You remember what she was thinking about last time? I do not want to hear any more of that kind of talk. Do you?"

G'regg's mischievous grin slowly contorted into a slack-jawed frown. Last time he had asked this question, Mara had gone into great detail about the women's issue she had been trying to solve; how to ride a full Thread fall during the menses cycle without damaging clothing. Green dragons couldn't fly Thread long enough to bother most women riders, and gold riders had the luxury of taking a short break if necessary, but Mara on a brown wanted to be able to fly a full fall, just like the men did. G'regg still remembered with horror the graphic detail she gave on some of the testing she had done with different absorbent materials.

The big bronze rider's eyes widened as the big brown woman rider grinned challengingly. "No" was all he said before turning back to his plate to push the remaining bites around in circles.

B'nor slumped in relief as G'raden grinned, and Jostin and B'rand looked completely baffled.

Mara couldn't help herself. "Want some redfruit, G'regg? It's nice and sticky, and as cold as between." There were very few things that bothered G'regg, and she had only recently discovered this particular trigger. She didn't use these triggers often, so felt justified in turning the board on him occasionally.

When G'regg, looking a bit ill, stood and cleared his dishes, Jostin, being a healer, finally understood. His jaw dropped as he studied the brown rider he had heard so much about. He wondered how he would explain this apparent personality change to Masterhealer Oldive, who had described her as one of the sweetest and kindest women he knew.

B'rand's brow furrowed as he watched first G'regg and then B'nor leave the table while G'raden grinned appreciatively and Mara frowned with shame. He just didn't understand why redfruit would make a big man like G'regg so squeamish.

Mara backhanded G'raden and started to stand. "I better go apologize."

G'raden held her arm to keep her seated. "Don't you dare! He deserves a bit of his own medicine once in a while."

"But in front of other people?"

"Does he hold his tongue in public? Let him think about it a while. I wager he will apologize to you!"

"Ha!" Mara turned to Jostin and B'rand. "I apologize for this rude display. Please don't take this as acceptable or normal behavior in a weyr."

Jostin now smiled. "He told me earlier that he likes to test you. I'd say that you passed this particular test quite admirably."

B'rand was still confused. "Why does redfruit bother him?"

Both Mara and Jostin blushed at his apparent innocence, while G'raden broke into a bellicose laugh.

Jostin put a hand on the young rider's shoulder and tried to hold back a laugh by saying, "I'll explain it to you later, B'rand."

_Mara?_

Mara held up a finger and spoke out loud to her sweet brown dragon. "Is it time, Klamath?"

_Yes. And the healer says I can take a bath. If my scars don't crack open, I can even sit on the ridges for a while!"_

"That's wonderful, Klamath! I'll ask Normond to take me to the weyr for bathing supplies and be right there, all right?"

_All right. What happened to Arneth's rider? He seems upset._

_We can talk about that at the lake, love, all right?_

_All right. But I won't forget!_

_I promise, my love._

B'rand cheered up. "I wonder if they'll let me bathe Tagamarth."

"Let's find out!" Mara let the new excitement push back her distress over upsetting G'regg.

Riders and healer cleared the table and deposited their eating implements at the proper place in the kitchen. B'rand barely seemed to notice some of the derisive looks sent his way. Mara ignored the thoughts accompanying those looks and concentrated on Klamath's and B'rand's excitement.

At G'raden's suggestion, the four walked to the dragon infirmary first. Tagamarth would be permitted to bathe, so G'raden and Normond took both Mara and B'rand first to the weyrmates weyr and then to B'rand and Tagamarth's weyr for the necessary bathing and oiling supplies.

While in the couple's weyr, Mara explained to B'rand that Klamath preferred his scrubbing sand with a bit of a certain spicy scent added. Mara had been experimenting over the last turn and finally found the right combination of spices and flowers to prepare the scenting oil that she soaked the sand in to absorb the odor. B'rand didn't seem too interested in her revelations, so she didn't bother to explain the specially formulated oil she was using on her big beautiful brown.

All were in good spirits as they flew from Normond's ledge to Tagamarth's. Normond, of course, was the first to see the inside of the dragon's weyr, and stiffened significantly after landing.

G'raden growled as he slid down Normond's side, having been shown through Normond what they were about to witness.

B'rand slid down next, and then Mara. They all walked slowly and carefully into the cave that was now splattered with red paint. On the wall above Tagamarth's stone couch were painted the words 'THREAD BAIT'. Long, vertical, squiggly lines of red paint adorned every visible wall.

Mara stood holding G'raden's arm as B'rand walked further, toward his inner weyr. She purposely placed a boot on one of the many paint puddles and found it to be dry enough to walk on. When B'rand pulled back the hide curtain and gasped, Mara made a decision. _Lessa?_

_Yes, Mara._

_There's been an incident in B'rand and Tagamarth's weyr._

_What kind of incident?_

_Red paint._

_We're on our way._

To G'raden, Mara said simply, "Lessa and F'lar are on their way." She worried just briefly about revealing her so far secret ability to 'think' to people, but quickly realized that she could have sent a message to the weyrleaders through Klamath and Ramoth or Mnementh.

The couple walked arm in arm toward the inner weyr as Normond dropped off the ledge to make room for Mnementh. The inner weyr was almost solid red. The wall nearest the bed displayed the words 'THREAD EAT YOU'. Above the bed was one word: 'KILLER!'. All the other wall space was covered with the same squiggly red lines as the outer weyr.

B'rand moved back the curtain to his clothing nook and found that his clothes had all been removed, painted, and returned in a haphazard fashion. He turned to Mara, his boyish features pale and slack.

Mara couldn't make out his thoughts; they were a confusing mix of anxious fear, guilt and even understanding, with only a slight hint of anger. The boy appeared to be in shock, so Mara walked toward him as G'raden moved to inspect the necessary room.

B'rand looked at the woman and smiled just barely. He spoke in almost a whisper. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised."

Tears filled Mara's eyes as she fought to control her own anger. This might not be a surprise anywhere else, but at Benden Weyr?

_Mara?_

_Inner weyr, Lessa. We're on our way out._

As she took B'rand's arm and pulled, she said, "Lessa and F'lar are here." When B'rand slumped, she tugged a bit more angrily. "Chin up, rider. This was uncalled for."

G'raden walked out of the necessary room shaking his head. As Mara and B'rand passed, he moved to the young man's other side and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Unacceptable" was all he could say.

The three riders met their weyrleaders in the center of the outer weyr. Both weyrleaders were livid with disgust. F'lar's mouth curled in on itself as if holding back a flood of angry words.

Lessa, red faced, studied the walls. When F'lar turned her toward the approaching riders, she nearly exploded. "Who would do this?" She had addressed Mara, but quickly looked at each of the bronze riders as well.

All three riders shook their heads. Mara felt a stab of guilt, but quickly deflected it; surely even Lessa wouldn't expect her to keep tabs on the thoughts of all the people in Benden Weyr. Would she? No, Mara hoped.

F'lar walked toward the three riders. "Mara, come with me!" He kept walking toward the inner weyr. "The rest of you stay here."

As the brown rider turned to follow her weyrleader, B'rand turned as well but was stopped by huge hands on his shoulders.

The young rider turned back to G'raden. "She had nothing to do with this!"

The big man chuckled at the worried young man. "He knows that. Don't worry."

Mara followed F'lar into the rider's weyr and waited while he took in the full scene. He even pulled back the curtain hiding the clothing nook. She followed him into the necessary room and nearly gagged. Someone had done a thoroughly disgusting job of plugging and backing up the latrine as well as a paint treatment similar to the other rooms. Paint and sewage had even flowed into the bathing pool.

F'lar turned dark, dangerously angry eyes to Mara. "If you were a weyrleader, what would you do?"

Mara thought for the briefest of moments. Nothing would lighten this situation, so no jokes. "Call a full weyr meeting in the bowl. Demand a confession."

"If no one confesses?"

"Total weyr confinement until the perpetrator does confess."

"What's the advantage?"

"Embarrassment, if the weyr has to cancel planned engagements and transports."

"And when someone confesses?"

"If it's a rider, assign them to a new, freshly painted weyr."

"If it's two riders?"

"Dragonriders know how to share, sir."

"And if it's not a rider?"

"Someone will have precious little free time until this weyr is cleaned up."

"Good." He started out of the necessary room. "What are the charges?"

"Sir?"

"The offenses. List the rules that have been broken."

Mara followed him. "Invasion of a rider's personal space. Destruction of Weyr property."

"List the property."

"Furnishings, clothing, bedding . . . necessary items, plumbing . . . oh, shells. They've tainted the water going to the hydroponics rooms – endangerment of all Weyr personnel."

"More charges?" He asked this as he passed the hide curtain to the outer weyr.

"Um, endangering the mental welfare of a dragon. Misappropriation of Weyr property. Misuse of Weyr property."

"Good." He pointed to and addressed B'rand, but didn't stop walking. "You were about to bathe your dragons?"

"Yes, sir."

"Do so." As he reached Lessa, she turned and they both walked quickly to waiting Mnementh. "G'raden, you stay with them."

"Yes, sir!"

As the departing weyrleaders floated toward the northern end of the bowl, G'raden, B'rand and Mara walked to the edge of the ledge to await Normond's return.

"Whoa!" said Mara. "I wish I could hear what he says."

G'raden grinned. "G'regg and B'nor will fill us in later."

B'rand looked up at G'raden. "Are they a reliable source, sir?"

G'raden chuckled. "For the first couple of tellings, yes. Then the embellishments start creeping in."


	8. Punishments

Disclaimer: Same as always.

WARNING: Here's where the T rating comes in. If anyone thinks I went too far (I obviously don't), let me know and I will curb or cut such scenes in the future.

* * *

The majority of weyr personnel were already standing in the northern section of the bowl as Mnementh glided to a graceful landing on the Weyrwoman's ledge. Weyrlings and a few beast handlers were still running north, so F'lar glanced up toward B'rand's weyr. Normond was just dropping off the ledge with his three passengers.

F'lar harrumphed. To Lessa, he said, "She's liable to think this was all her idea."

Lessa looked up at her weyrmate with a trace of a grin. "Was she that close?"

"Close enough she likely thinks me a senile old man asking a new brown rider for suggestions on running this weyr."

"She knows better, dear."

F'lar harrumphed again and refused to look at Lessa's 'I told you so' face. Instead, he watched as the last of the stragglers reached the edge of the crowd.

He raised his arms for silence and did almost exactly what Mara had suggested. He gave a brief outline of the damage just found in B'rand's weyr, and ordered the perpetrator to confess now. The bowl buzzed with a low murmur as people looked around at each other.

F'lar noticed Weyrlingmaster L'ret standing cross-armed staring at a few of his weyrlings, but no one confessed.

F'lar then suggested that such destruction was a major embarrassment to Benden Weyr, and informed the crowd that no one would be allowed to leave the Weyr until a confession was offered.

He was about to increase the pressure when he noticed L'ret following two weyrlings toward the steps leading to this ledge. The big man slapped one of the boys on the shoulder and the boy turned toward F'lar, raising his hand.

"What is it, weyrling?" F'lar's voice seemed to echo around the bowl.

"I did it, sir." The boy nearly squeaked.

"I can't hear you. Speak up, weyrling!"

Now the boy spoke loud enough for all to hear. "I did it, sir."

L'ret slapped the other boy's shoulder.

"We did it, sir."

Neither boy could be more that fourteen turns, thought F'lar. They were still children in his opinion, but dragonriders none the less. "Get up here!" He pointed to the rock ledge at his feet. When the boys drug their feet, he yelled. "Run!"

The boys did as ordered, or tried. Neither seemed too familiar with rocky steps. L'ret caught one as he tripped and kept him from falling back to the bowl.

The crowd collectively gasped as the boy tripped, and then returned to hushed murmurs until both boys reached the top of the steps, when they fell silent.

F'lar, hands at his waist, towered over the two weyrlings. "Who helped you?" he bellowed.

"No one, sir" answered the tallest boy who had been first to speak.

"Your dragons don't fly yet. Who took you up to that weyr?"

Both boys hung their heads, refusing to answer.

From the crowd, a young female voice spoke loud enough for all to hear. "I flew them up, sir."

F'lar located the speaker and recognized her as a second turn weyrling. She and her green were probably on in-weyr transport duty. He looked back at the boys. They glared at each other as if holding a silent conversation.

The taller boy finally faced F'lar. "She didn't know what we were doing, sir."

"How could she not have seen that mess?" When the taller boy took a breath, F'lar lightly punched the other's shoulder. "Your turn."

The boy tried to look up, but couldn't get past the swirling reddish orange eyes that seemed to frame the angry weyrleaders. "We finished after dark, sir, and turned the glows before she got there."

F'lar glared for several long moments as the weyrlings trembled before him. When he heard a chuckle from the crowd, he decided to move this disciplinary action to a more private location. "Council Chambers. Now!"

Both boys responded with "Yes, sir" and moved quickly along the wall of the ledge.

"Weyrlingmaster, will you join us?"

"Gladly, Weyrleader."

F'lar waved off the green rider, to her obvious relief, and turned toward the Chamber entrance. L'ret stood against the wall several arm's lengths behind the boys. The boys stood shoulder to shoulder, trembling as Mnementh guarded the tunnel, standing head down, glaring with rapidly spiraling orange eyes and a barely audible, menacing growl emanating from his slightly open, tooth baring muzzle.

Lessa led the way into the Council Chamber tunnel. She walked casually between the boys and the big bronze dragon. With one hand trailing across his huge muzzle, and the other on the rocky edge of the wall, she said simply, "Thank you for your assistance, Mnementh."

F'lar was next, reaching an arm up to pat his life-mate between the eyes, but saying nothing out loud.

L'ret moved up next to the boys, affected a modest bow and said, "My duty to you, bronze Mnementh." Before passing the big bronze, he turned to the boys and growled. "Pay your respects and get in there." He walked through the narrow opening, not touching either Mnementh or the wall.

The tallest boy braved the angry glare first. He bowed deeply, repeating L'ret's words. "My duty to you, bronze Mnementh." He was about to squeeze through the opening, when the other boy latched onto his arm. He turned and glared at the smaller boy.

Still holding his friend's arm, the shorter boy looked hesitantly into one of the big orange orbs. He took a deep breath, and still holding on for balance, bowed deeply but shakily. "My duty to you, bronze dragon Mnementh."

As the boy stood, the big bronze's growl changed to a less menacing rumble as his head moved back a bit and his eyes lightened to an orangey-yellow.

The taller boy took that as a good sign and pulled the other behind as he stepped carefully through the now wider opening, and then both ran to the other end of the tunnel.

* * *

On the other end of Benden's mile long bowl, G'raden, B'rand and Mara cheerfully bathed Normond, Tagamarth and Klamath.

Tagamarth had been given a choice of Mara's scented scrubbing sand or G'raden's unscented sand. To B'rand's surprise and dismay (he knew that Mara's sand took extra effort on her part to produce), his bronze chose the spicy smelling sand.

Though the bowl was already in shadow, the long mid-summer day still had a couple candle-marks of daylight left. The riders took their time, each thoroughly enjoying the intimate contact with their respective life-mates.

More than once, young B'rand shed tears over the shared intimacy he had been blinded to over the last two turns. Later, he would confide to Jostin that his overwhelming fear had blocked out anything pleasant. Pleasure might have weakened his defenses.

G'raden was first to notice the crowd at the north end breaking up. Mnementh was most courteously keeping Normond informed of events near the Council Chambers. G'raden said nothing, though, and watched with welling tears as his weyrmate and their newfound friend gently tended their newly scored dragons.

Mara shed a few tears as well. The thoughts she overheard from B'rand and Tagamarth brought back memories of her and Klamath's first few months together. Oh, what a wonderful time that was, rediscovering unconditional love! And then she realized that B'rand hadn't even had the few good turns of motherly love she had enjoyed and taken for granted. She could hear and feel now that B'rand was finally able to fully appreciate what Tagamarth so freely offered, and had quite a bit to offer in return.

Healers, both human and dragon, after leaving the gathering, sat away from the shore of the lake, also enjoying the cool summer evening.

Master Healer Tarminas, at Loralin's almost whining insistence, was taking a rare break from his many self-assigned tasks. He sat a short distance from the young and lovely Journeywoman Healer who had been so kind and thoughtful to help him through his first two turns at Benden Weyr. He watched the young woman as she spoke to the even younger Journeyman Healer Jostin, and fought smiling at her slightly flirtatious attentions toward the unaware, but definitely affected, blushing young man.

Tarminas had come to Benden Weyr feeling he had a great deal to offer these poor, secluded misfits of Pern society, but had instead, to his amazement, learned a great deal more about human interactions from these freely emotional riders and their support staff.

Just two turns ago, he had felt that Loralin was no more than an over-educated, unmotivated harlot. She was an excellent healer, but had no desire to ascend to mastery of her craft. Her true talents, Tarminas had discovered, were in reading people, and in giving whatever they needed to feel whole and healthy. While there were no knots to recognize her talents, she was indeed a master of emotional healing.

Tarminas contemplated each of the people sitting near him and decided that Pern really should recognize more specialized crafts or sub-crafts. The people before him may not wear master's knots, but each one had certainly mastered some aspect of their crafts.

Master Healer Tarminas turned to watch the riders in the lake with their massive dragons. Two turns ago, that insane weyrlingmaster had suggested that his dragon might eat him. Tarminas smiled as he recalled the joke that had been played by that fear inducing, but gentle man. He watched now as the three huge dragons soaked up the attention of their riders, and he watched the faces of the riders; they were obviously receiving something in return. He wondered, just briefly, what it might be like to share that telepathic and empathic bond with such a powerful creature.

As the dragons waddled out of the lake, Tarminas noticed a bit of yellow swirling through brown Klamath's mostly green swirling eyes. He grinned in anticipation as he noticed Mara's matching grin as the dragon healers approached her big brown. When Klamath, after waiting patiently for just the right positioning, shook and splattered water on the dragon healers, Tarminas laughed out loud. When was the last time he had laughed, wondered Tarminas. He privately thanked Loralin for this relaxing and enjoyable entertainment.

And then he watched Mara, that very tall, very muscular, and surprisingly attractive young woman he had so seriously misdiagnosed two turns ago. He marveled at the contradictions of this woman, so strong, yet so gentle and loving and forgiving. She could appear so impressive and even frightening one moment, and so fragile the next. She was so soft spoken most of the time, yet so intelligent, and learning more each day. He chuckled at the memory of how he had misread her; he had thought her just a simple minded, passive drudge. And yet, that drudge had opened the doors in his own mind to learning beyond his own expertise. 'Master, indeed' he thought. He now knew just how much more he had to learn to be a true master at healing, and Mara and Loralin and even young Jostin were just a few of his teachers here at Benden Weyr.

Tarminas found the methodical oiling of the dragons to be almost hypnotic. Each rider followed nearly the same procedures, starting at the head and ending with the tail. He found the methodology soothing to his methodical mind, and barely noticed when all three dragons launched into the air. Loralin's gentle hand on his arm woke him from his trance. Her smiling eyes cheered his soul. Oh, if only he were a few turns younger, he thought. "Where'd they go?" he asked.

Loralin pointed up at the ridges of the volcanic crater. "Up there."

Tarminas found three bronze dragons perched together. "Where's Klamath?"

Loralin grinned as the riders approached. "He's the one on the left."

"But that dragon is bronze!"

"That's Klamath." Mara was grinning.

Tarminas frowned as he studied the grinning woman. After several heartbeats of serious thought, he finally smiled. "It's the oil, isn't it?"

Mara's grin faded, but her eyes laughed at the little man. "I'll never tell."

"Something in the oil brings out the bronze in his brown hide!"

"Shoosh!" Mara's face, except her eyes, appeared shocked. "Please, don't tell anyone. That's my secret."

"Mara?" B'rand walked to her side. When the brown rider only lifted her eyebrows, he asked, "What's in that oil you use?"

Mara squinted at Tarminas before turning innocently to the boy. "Why?"

B'rand's face was the picture of ecstasy as he pointed up to the ridge. "I've never seen Tagamarth look so beautiful."

"Ahh," Mara put an arm over his shoulder. "Have you ever looked so close?"

The boy actually blushed as he looked up at Mara. "Probably not, but Klamath looks bronze too!"

"Ah. Well," Mara stammered, "it's probably just the way the sun's bouncing off his hide."

"Uh huh." B'rand studied Mara's overly expressive face. "That's probably it."

Mara looked at the boy's cocky smile and slapped his shoulder. "Why don't you get our cleaning supplies together, and then we'll find out where your new weyr is."

"Uh huh." B'rand held back a laugh as he returned to the buckets.

Tarminas watched the exchange in awe. Yes, she was learning many things. As the riders left, he turned to Loralin. "Oil wouldn't change the color of his hide. It would only enhance what's already there."

Journeywoman Loralin took her master's arm and gently, but firmly led him back to the healer's cavern. "It's starting to get chilly. How's the surgery coming along?"

"I wonder if there are any differences in the blood of different colored dragons."

"Good luck getting blood from any of these dragons. Their riders would kill you for trying!"

"Where are those dragon healers? I'd like to talk to them."

Loralin grinned at the man's tenacity. He would not easily be swayed from this new puzzle. "The dragons all say that Klamath is brown . . . most of the time. What more can the healers tell you?"

"There must be some genetic differences between the colors. If we could determine those differences . . ."

* * *

G'raden, Mara and Jostin helped B'rand get set up in his new weyr. He would still spend this night in the healer's cavern, but now had a clean weyr and new clothing to call his own when Tagamarth was cleared to carry him.

G'raden and Mara returned to their weyr just in time to watch Rukbat slip below the horizon. Normond lounged on the ledge with them until stars were visible in the western sky. Klamath would spend one more night in the dragon infirmary.

"What were they thinking?" Mara shook her head as the two weyrlings were led toward the weyrling barracks by the gruff weyrlingmaster. They both appeared rather haggard, and each wore one of the tunics they had covered with red paint.

G'raden chuckled. "They're both just boys. They probably thought they were doing the whole Weyr a favor. They never considered all the candle-marks of work they were damaging."

"I'll wager they'll know more about the workings of this Weyr by the time they're done."

G'raden's eyes rolled. "More than they ever imagined."

Mara laughed at her lover. Was there a story behind those rolling eyes?

They would learn later that the boys would wear those red tunics until they had cleaned B'rand's old weyr to Lessa's satisfaction. All in the Weyr would know that the boys in the red tunics, if not participating in weyrling lessons, should be working on the weyr they damaged. They would have precious little free time during the next month, and would appreciate what free time they were given as weyrlings much more.

The next day, after morning classes, and before and after doing their share of firestone moving for the afternoon Threadfall, they would start by cleaning the necessary room under the supervision of the weyrmen who took so much pride in the smooth workings of Benden's plumbing. The day after that, they would help to clean and replant all the hydroponic tables that had been tainted by their injudicious activities under the supervision of the hydroponics experts. Each step they took in cleaning that weyr would teach them a new appreciation of the time and effort spent by so many people they seldom even saw, to keep this Weyr running smoothly and efficiently.

After moving the chairs from the ledge, G'raden gracefully led Mara back to the inner weyr. His eyes alone sent shivers through her body. The feather light touch of his hands weakened her knees until she had to hold his arm for balance. As he extolled the virtues of cleanliness in his near whispering bass voice, waves of anticipation threatened to undo Mara's limited composure.

Inside the weyr, G'raden's eyes never left his beautiful weyrmate. He slowly removed first his vest and then his belt. Sitting on the bed, he unfastened his boots and removed them, and then moved toward her. He knew he wasn't considered the most handsome of men, with his size and fuzziness, but the look in her eyes made him feel like the most desirable man on all of Pern.

He carefully untied the sash around her waist, trying to not touch her just yet. He wanted to feel only his own anticipation for just a bit longer. He lifted the edges of her tunic and carefully, slowly lifted it over her head and outstretched arms. Oh, how he loved the way her muscles moved and the way the light of the few glows he had turned highlighted each one. He nearly gasped as his eyes moved back to her face. Her eyes were as hungry as he was for what he was planning.

After flinging her tunic away, he let his hands run down her arms, her waves of anticipation adding to his own. He allowed her to remove his tunic, enjoying the way she only lightly brushed his sides. He let a moan escape as her fingers ran down his arms and sides to the waist of his trousers, and let his arms fall to encircle her tall, strong frame. He relished the play of muscles in her back as he moved his hands slowly down to her waist.

As his trousers fell to the floor, Mara giggled. "Should we hurry?"

G'raden blushed slightly, but grinned as he unfastened her trousers. "Maybe the first time."

Her shudder under his hands caused a shudder of his own. He turned her and slowly guided her to sit on the bed. Hands and eyes savored every inch of skin as they travelled down her powerful legs to free her feet from trousers and shoes. Her feet free, he stood slowly and offered his hands to help her stand. He chuckled as her hungry eyes stayed near his waist.

When she tried to move closer, he deftly turned her toward the necessary room. Oh, how he'd love to cradle her in his arms, but he wouldn't risk tearing any of her new scars just yet. Next seven-day, though . . . One arm around her waist and one hand resting on her quivering belly, he led his beautiful little giggling brown rider through the curtain and into the bathing pool.

After a hurried bath and release of initial tension, he led her back to their large bed. He didn't hurry for the next couple of candle-marks, and afterwards, they both collapsed into peaceful slumber.

The weyrmates slept through Rukbat's rising the next morning. Normond's agitated mental bellow woke them both. He had been trying to wake them for quite some time; none of his usual gentler methods had worked. Both weyrmates apologized profusely to the anxious bronze. Thread would fall this day, and Normond was anxious to prepare, as were G'raden's seconds, his wingmen and women, and the weyrleader.

G'raden allowed Mara to use the necessary first as he hurriedly donned his fighting clothes. Before she dressed, he slathered lotion onto her back and then took just a little more time to work it in. He used the necessary while she dressed, and within a short time, they rode Normond down to the dining cavern.

G'raden grabbed a couple of meatrolls and some fruit before rushing back to Normond. His wing had already eaten and was ready for pre-Thread inspections and instructions. The wing would then spend most of the morning together discussing strategies, both past and future. Mid-day meal would begin early this day to accommodate those riders fighting Thread which would start falling just after noon.

Mara, after a bit of good-natured teasing from the kitchen staff, took her morning meal to a table. She ate fairly quickly, returned her plates, and then walked to the weyrling barracks, by way of the healer's cavern and the dragon infirmary. The healers declared her fit for full flight status, but the dragon healers wanted to keep Klamath out of between until later this day, probably after Fall. Mara wasn't fooled; they wanted her available should there be any serious injuries this afternoon.

Mara assisted L'ret by helping keep the non-flying weyrlings busy while he directed those who would be flying firestone to the Fall area.

Fall this day went quite smoothly, considering. One cocky weyrling on his green was lost due to inattention, and only one full rider was seriously injured due to a sudden updraft, his dragon's wings tattered but not beyond healing. The blue rider was not injured, so was able to sooth and calm his dragon. All others returned unscathed or with only minor Thread score.

When Mara's duties at the weyrling barracks were done, and after a few words of welcome and then explanation to G'raden, she returned to the dragon infirmary. Klamath was instructed to fly around the weyr a few times, was thoroughly inspected, and then was proclaimed fit for full duty.

Mara thanked the dragon healers with true sincerity, and immediately went to search for Weyrleader F'lar. She found him in the Council Chambers.

* * *

Second half of this chapter is almost done.

Thanks for reading! Please review!


	9. Confinement

Disclaimer: same as always.

* * *

Mnementh had instructed her to enter the Council Chamber, so Mara was surprised to see two wingleaders standing stiffly before Weyrleader F'lar. When F'lar looked at her and nodded, she returned his nod.

"My apologies for interrupting, Weyrleader. You asked to be informed when Klamath was fully cleared to fly."

"Yes. Come in. Take a seat, rider." He motioned toward Lessa's end of the table.

"Thank you, Weyrleader." Mara sat straight on the edge of the chair and picked a spot on the wall to study until F'lar was ready. She heard embarrassment in the thoughts of the two wingleaders at the other end of the room, so fought to keep her face expressionless.

"Will there be anything else, Wingleaders?" F'lar's tone indicated his negative expectations.

"No, sir" said one.

"Thank you for your time, Weyrleader" said the other.

Mara was only mildly surprised when each of the men patted her shoulder as they left. She fought even harder to maintain a neutral expression until they were well down the tunnel toward the exit.

F'lar picked up something from the seat of a chair near his and carried it toward Lessa's end of the table. "Do you understand the necessity of this punishment?"

Did she hear a slight emphasis on the word 'you'? Mara dared to smile at her smiling Weyrleader. "Does it matter, sir?"

Still smiling, F'lar sounded stern. "Answer my question, rider."

"Yes, sir, I do understand the necessity."

"Good." He dropped a small carisak on the table and kept walking. "That makes two of us."

"Uh oh."

F'lar chuckled as he moved to meet Lessa at the entrance. "Thank you, my dear." Hands on either side of the tray she carried, he leaned over the tray and kissed her sweetly. As he stood, he removed the tray from her hands and turned back to the table.

Lessa smiled only after spotting Mara at the table. "Hello, Mara."

"Good day, Lessa."

"I take it Klamath is cleared for full duty?" Her smile disappeared as she took her seat.

"Yes ma'am."

"Good for him." She began studiously pouring wine in two of the mugs on the tray.

As Lessa poured wine, Mara reached for the pitcher of water and filled a mug of her own, glancing at F'lar as she did so. Even without listening to their thoughts, Mara could see and feel a rather strong negative tension between her weyrleaders. "I'm sure glad this confinement will only be for a seven-day." A wince from Lessa confirmed this was indeed the subject of their disagreement. "I should think assault could earn far more than that."

The Weyrwoman pushed a mug of wine to her left, never looking at her mate. "Assault normally earns two to three days of confinement."

F'lar forced a tight smile. "Most assaults aren't carried out in full view of the entire Weyr."

As Lessa began to flush with anger, Mara tried to lighten the mood. "It's been a long time since I spent any time alone. I'm rather looking forward to seven days of privacy."

That took Lessa by surprise. "You're kidding!"

Mara's eyes snapped wide open. She hadn't expected that response. She half grinned apologetically to F'lar and then confessed to Lessa. "Yeah, but I would look forward to it, if I had a bit more freedom, and if G'raden weren't waiting for me."

Both weyrleaders laughed at the silly way she phrased her clarification.

"It won't be so bad, Lessa. And with so many weyrlings in training, you really do want to make it clear that such behavior is not acceptable."

Lessa took Mara's hand and squeezed as she smiled. "Very well." She turned a raised chin to F'lar. "My apologies, Weyrleader."

F'lar smiled graciously with only a hint of victory. "Accepted, Weyrwoman. Now, may we get on with our business?"

Lessa pushed the tray out of the way and sat back to observe.

F'lar opened the carisak and laid out a pad of newly crafted lined paper, several carbon sticks, and a hidebound book with no lettering on the cover. "You and Klamath will have until evening meal to get moved into your temporary weyr. It's located about halfway down the western wall, and is marked with a small red spot above the entrance to warn off those who have already suggested they might accidentally land on your ledge." He smiled at Mara's surprise.

He placed the carbon sticks on the pad of paper and pushed it across the table. "Each day you will be given a subject to write about. You will define the subject, you will give examples both good and bad of the subject, and you will write down your thoughts and conclusions on that subject. Each paper will be at least one page long, single spaced, and will be brought to me at the head table before you pick up your morning meal. I will then give you a book to be read before the end of the day, and a new subject to write about before the next morning meal. Any questions?"

"No, sir."

"Good. You won't have much time for reading this day, but your first subject is 'honesty'. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good." He pushed the untitled book across the table. "This is called a journal. It is for your use, and is not to be seen or reviewed by anyone but you. A journal is used to write down events that should be remembered and your feelings or thoughts about those events. You might be surprised in a few turns at just how much we can forget about even the most important events in our lives. Use this wisely and many will be impressed with your wisdom."

Mara witnessed a meaningful sharing of glances between her weyrleaders. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

"Your seven-day of confinement begins at evening meal. Lessa and I are your only permitted visitors. We'll see you at morning meal."

"Yes, sir." Mara stood, arranged her writing supplies, and because Lessa pulled the tray back toward her, didn't offer to return it to the kitchen. She nodded at each of her weyrleaders before leaving the Council Chambers.

It wasn't difficult to avoid smiling as she left; all she had to do was wonder why F'lar wanted a paper on honesty – did he doubt her honesty?

She asked G'raden, through Normond, to bring down Klamath's riding straps. She and Klamath moved what she would need to their new temporary weyr, they flew above the ridges of the Weyr for a little while, and then she and G'raden walked the south end of the bowl, holding hands in near silence until mealtime. They kissed and hugged before walking hand in hand to the dining hall.

At the entrance, they separated; G'raden joined his friends, and Mara began her seven days of solitude among the mass of people at Benden Weyr. She loaded a small carisak with food and two mugs, picked up a water skin, and walked outside to Klamath. She merely nodded at anyone who spoke to her, indicating that her confinement was now underway.

When they reached their weyr, Mara removed Klamath's straps and started work on her first paper. Just as T'men had taught her, she first sketched an outline on one piece of paper and then combined the sketchy, scratched out and overwritten outline notes into one cohesive, smooth flowing paper discussing honesty. By the time she finished her one and a half page paper, the sun was long set and she was exhausted.

She flipped through the blank pages of the journal F'lar had given her and smiled. It was a beautiful, thick, hidebound book. The hide had been dyed to a medium brown very close to the coloring on Klamath's face and along his back.

On the inside cover sheet, a quarter of the way down the page, she wrote in capital letters 'MARA – RIDER OF BROWN KLAMATH'. At Klamath's suggestion, she placed a small inverted 'v' after 'BROWN' and wrote above '(most of the time)'.

She found the first lined page and began writing neatly in small print:

'7.12.2555 – Benden Weyr.

'Weyrleader F'lar: "A journal is used to write down events that should be remembered and your feelings or thoughts about those events." "It is for your use, and is not to be seen or reviewed by anyone but you." "Use this wisely and many will be impressed with your wisdom."

'He looked so paternal as he spoke those words. Should I have told him that T'men gave me a journal the first Turn's End I was at Benden Weyr? Should I have told him that I write in it every day, sometimes more? I'm a wherry-brain; I couldn't spoil his surprise. And he only allowed me one book, so I left T'men's gift at G'raden's weyr.

'Approximately two candle-marks after sunset. First day of confinement for assaulting bronze rider B'rand on 7.9.2555. Feelings: we are both so lucky he is alive this day. Thoughts: if I hadn't attacked him, he would still be trying to kill Klamath and me. This day's essay topic is 'honesty' – I hope F'lar and Lessa don't doubt mine. They are the parents I wish I had after Mama died, and the friends I never dared hope for. I could never lie to either of them.'

She grimaced as she reread the first three paragraphs, and added a new line:

'Omission of a fact is not a lie!'

She closed the journal, placed it in the chest at the foot of her bed under a stack of under clothing, and went to bed.

The next morning, she woke shortly before sunrise, before most people were moving around. As Mara adjusted riding straps, Klamath wondered where G'raden was and seemed surprised that he wasn't up yet. Mara ran two laps around the bowl, the first half lap real easy to warm up, a full lap as fast as she could and the last half lap at a more leisurely pace. She stopped near the weyrling barracks and picked up two bags of firestone for exercises requiring weight which she would do inside the weyr. After working up a satisfying sweat, she cooled off while oiling Klamath's scars as they discussed what all confinement would mean. She took a quick bath and was fully dressed by the time Klamath informed her that F'lar had arrived in the dining hall. She neatly folded her first paper and tucked it into her vest before riding Klamath to the floor of the bowl near the dining hall.

The dining hall fell silent as Mara entered. All eyes on her, she walked straight to the head table.

F'lar motioned her up onto the raised platform to stand near him. Mara stood tall and straight and watched a spot on the wall near the entrance as he took his time reading, giving no indication as to his opinion of her first paper. When finished, he refolded the pages and placed them inside the cover of a book, which he handed to Mara, title side down. "I'll be up later to discuss this paper in further depth. This is your book for the day and your subject is written on a scrap of paper inside the front cover." He then turned back to his plate of food, effectively dismissing her.

"Yes, sir." Mara nodded, even though he wouldn't see, placed the book under her arm, and gathered what food and drink she would need. As she walked out of the hall, carisak and skins over her shoulder, she glanced at the title of the book: _Agriculture in Southern Hemisphere Pern_. She glanced at the head table and caught just a brief grin from F'lar before he turned his attention to Lessa. On returning to their weyr, she learned the subject of her paper for the day: loyalty.

In her new weyr, Mara moved the small table and two chairs to a spot near the ledge for natural lighting, but far enough back that she would not be seen from any part of the bowl. She laid out her morning meal, poured a mug of juice, and started reading _Agriculture in Southern Hemisphere Pern_ while waiting for F'lar's visit.

They talked for nearly half a candle-mark, F'lar asking questions or posing different scenarios, all dealing with the subject of honesty.

As he ended the session, F'lar asked if she needed to make any changes to her paper. He was pleased that she would like to add to the paper, but would not change what was already there. He was also pleased that she had indeed explored both positive and negative uses of honesty. She had put a lot of thought into the paper, indicating the level of seriousness she was giving these assignments. He suggested that she date the paper and keep it in her journal. And then he left.

Mara never got the chance to ask what agriculture might have to do with loyalty. She continued reading the book, with the pad of paper nearby for noting thoughts on loyalty as they popped into her mind. At the top of the page, she had already written the definition according to her dictionary.

Klamath's notification that mid-day meal was beginning came as a surprise to Mara. She had actually become quite engrossed in the book she was reading. She marked her place, noticing that she was nearly half way through, and was surprised to see that her paper was nearly half full as well. As she harnessed Klamath, she wondered what it was about agriculture that would prompt so many thoughts on loyalty.

She was still frowning in thought as she entered the dining hall, and barely noticed all the sympathetic stares coming from the riders. A tearful look from one of the kitchen women, though, snapped her out of her own thoughts. She winked and smiled at the woman before finishing her food collection, and forced the frown to return in a purposefully comical way. The woman winked back and bit her lips, trying not to smile.

Evening meal came far too quick as well. Mara had started a second page of notes, but wasn't quite finished with the book. She collected her meal, leaving dishes and empty skins, and returned to their weyr.

After finishing the last small section of the book, she began her paper and was quite surprised at how easily all her notes fit together. She spent the last bit of her evening contemplating the commonalities of agriculture and loyalty. After a bath and a session with her new journal, she went to bed totally confused.

The next six days were pretty much the same. Mara would exercise, hand her paper to F'lar in front of the entire Weyr, pick up meals and eat them in her weyr while reading or writing notes, and read a book that seemed to have nothing to do with whatever subject she would write about. Books and subjects were as follows: _History of Pern Metallurgy _and trust, _Geology of Pern_ and pride, _Basic Electricity_ and duty, _Edible Native Plants of Pern_ and killing, and _Native Fauna of Pern _and leadership.

Most of her papers were two to three full pages long. She tried to include every scenario she could think of, and yet, F'lar always found more examples to question her about.

She had considerable trouble with the paper on killing. After a much longer meeting than usual, F'lar suggested she keep working on it until she reached a conclusion she could live with.

Between the books and the papers, Mara had very little time to think about much else, though she did write in her new journal each day.

She did visit the healers once a day so they could put lotion on the parts of her back she couldn't reach, and she oiled Klamath's scars several times each day.

Klamath was agreeable to letting his scars heal more completely, so ate well and then observed the green's mating flight on the second day. He wanted a bath on the fourth day of their confinement, but was understanding when she refused to play in the lake. He was also quite content to hunt in the Weyr's beast pen until they were free to hunt outside the Weyr, and to fly laps inside the bowl.

He did have trouble sitting on his ledge during the Fall F'nor's wing fought, but Mara was able to soothe him sufficiently with promises of more Thread to fight in the very near future. When a rider was knocked between during a midair collision, Mara and Klamath did drop to the bowl to calm his dragon, but returned to their weyr as soon as the rider regained consciousness. There were no complaints about her breaking confinement, even when she mentioned it to F'lar.

Mara only had to shoo away one unauthorized visitor. Wingleader F'nor was certain that he should have been permitted to visit, but Mara insisted that he speak with F'lar. When he continued asking questions that she wouldn't answer, Mara resorted to visiting the necessary room to hopefully convince him to leave. As she sat on the bench along the wall, she fervently wished she had picked up her book of the day. F'nor didn't leave until she began splashing her hand through the bathing pool. His hearty laughter as he left her weyr let Mara know that this had been another of his little tests.

The last, partial day of confinement was spent working on the paper about killing. F'lar met with her a candle-mark before evening meal to discuss scenarios she hadn't yet considered, asking her if she thought she could kill in this or that situation. Her distress bothered him on one level, but was quite understandable considering the person she was. With no pressure, and no indication of what he was waiting for, he suggested she keep working on the paper, perhaps during her night watches on the fire heights.

Lessa had been a bit annoyed by his seeming obsession with the paper on killing, but finally agreed with his reasoning after he explained. Bronze and brown riders were most likely to accompany them on diplomatic missions, and knowledge of their capabilities, even in the most extreme situations, was imperative. And F'lar planned to have Mara, with her special 'hearing' abilities, begin accompanying them very soon. Discussions and negotiations dealing with 'After' were already growing contentious. Mara just might be able to help smooth some of the rough terrain ahead.

Before F'lar left her weyr on the last day, Mara finally asked him what the books had to do with the papers.

F'lar grinned mischievously. "You tell me, brown rider. Something else to think about on watch duty." He grew more serious. "Your confinement is officially over. You are free this evening, but will be expected in the Records Room first thing tomorrow, and will begin middle night watch tomorrow night." As he walked to Mnementh on Mara's ledge, he turned back, once again grinning. "It's meal time. Are you coming?"

"Yes, sir!" _Klamath, love, do you want to go flying?_

There was a very near miss as Mnementh dropped off the ledge barely a heartbeat before Klamath landed.

Mara heard F'lar's laughter rise from below. She quickly, but carefully placed and adjusted Klamath's riding straps, climbed excitedly to her place, and held on tight as he dropped from the ledge.

Klamath circled the bowl several more times than necessary, enjoying the feel of his happy rider on his back where she belonged, before landing near the main cavern.

G'raden waited a short distance down the wall from the entrance, big grin beaconing. Klamath landed a respectable distance from the big man, and took a few steps toward his lifemate's weyrmate. G'raden rubbed the big brown's eye ridges as Mara slid from his back.

The weyrmates met without a single word. He held out his arms and she slid hers over his shoulders and around his neck. They simply held on tight as G'raden rocked from side to side and Klamath huffed with pleasure at the reunion.

"Do I get a hug like that?" G'regg's unmistakable voice caused the weyrmates to separate, but very slowly.

Never losing contact, Mara wrapped her arm around G'raden's waist and he wrapped his arm over hers and around her waist.

When G'regg held out his arms for a big hug, the weyrmates responded in unison. "Not a chance, G'regg."

G'regg wore such a defected look as he dropped his left arm, Mara felt just slightly compelled to grasp his other arm. She quickly realized her mistake as he held on tight and moved to her free side. He continued holding that arm as he led the weyrmates into the dining hall, looking truly victorious and far too possessive in Mara's opinion.

A big man on either side, Mara grinned with pleasure. The grin melted as they entered the hall. As more and more people started standing, Mara's eyes grew wider, her brows climbed higher, and her jaw dropped farther. As the diners cheered her freedom, she worried about the appropriateness of such in this situation. Only after F'lar, also standing, started laughing, did she relax into a rather self-deprecating half smile.

G'regg still held her right arm stretched across his stomach. She let loose and backhanded his belly to obtain full release, and raised that hand to wave. Still feeling rather overwhelmed, she only managed to wiggle her fingers, which drew considerable laughter.

G'regg took hold of her upper arm and led both weyrmates to the serving tables. Quite a few people managed to slow their progress to congratulate Mara and welcome her back. As they passed the weyrling table, B'rand stood as well, with a smile that tugged at Mara's heart.

The big woman offered her arm to the handsome young man. When he grasped firmly, she pulled him closer. "And how was your confinement?"

B'rand's eyes rolled. "I wasn't allowed to leave the weyr, but the only time I was alone was when I slept . . . I think. I had so many visitors, I only got about halfway through the weyrlingmaster's transcripts. So, I'm officially still on limited confinement." His smile, though slightly embarrassed, revealed that he wasn't too concerned.

"Visitors?" asked Mara.

B'rand laughed. "I think half of the healers on Pern stopped by to talk to the 'healed killer'." Again his eyes rolled.

"Hey!" someone bellowed.

"What?" responded Mara, and then realized it had been L'ret. "Sir?" she added. Her comically frightened expression caused snickers at the weyrling table and some twitching of the weyrlingmaster's lips.

L'ret walked up behind B'rand and laid his hands on the boy's shoulders. "Go sit with your 'friends'. You're not a weyrling again till you finish that reading."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir!"

G'regg helped B'rand collect his meal from the weyrling's table as Mara and G'raden collected their own meals from the serving tables. All four found the table B'nor had been holding patiently.

B'rand listed all the visitors who'd come to question him or just talk. Jostin had some of his co-researchers visit for a full afternoon. G'regg and G'raden had been among his permitted visitors, and of course F'lar and Lessa and L'ret had questioned him on what reading he did manage to complete, and many other things.

As he started describing Masterhealer Oldive's visit, Mara detected some left out facts. "Who brought the Masterhealer?"

"Cally, of course." His cheeks colored just slightly. "She's his apprentice." He told all with a bit of pride how Oldive went on about Cally's natural healing sense. Every time B'rand spoke Cally's name, his breath caught just slightly. He spoke her name with reverence and his blush deepened with each mention of her name.

Each time G'regg took a breath to tease B'rand, Mara jabbed her elbow into his ribs.

When G'regg was about to growl at Mara, B'nor changed the subject by asking where Jostin was this day. G'regg seemingly forgot about the teasing as B'rand continued answering questions from the other four riders.

L'ret ended their meal by reminding B'rand that he had other duties.

As they walked their trays back to the kitchen, B'rand explained to Mara that he was on 'painter watch' this evening. He was tasked with transporting the weyrlings in red tunics up to his old weyr, where he would observe and 'make sure they didn't escape'. L'ret had informed him that the boys were taking their duty quite seriously, so B'rand was actually excited about getting more reading done.

Mara avoided an evening with G'regg and the brothers by insisting that Klamath needed to stretch his wings. G'raden offered to accompany her and she gratefully accepted.

The weyrmates emptied Mara's temporary weyr and then, with proper permissions, left the Weyr flying east on Normond and Klamath.

They flew straight all the way to a large cove on the Eastern Sea, sometimes sprinting and sometimes floating on air currents. Klamath enjoyed working his muscles, Mara enjoyed the wind on her un-masked face, and G'raden enjoyed watching his 'pretty little brown rider'.

They landed at the cove with almost a candle-mark of daylight left. Mara thoroughly inspected Klamath's scars and decided that they could go between to get home.

As Klamath dove into the sea to join Normond in his frolicking, G'raden began stripping. Mara tested the sea water, and after G'raden unpacked his carisak full of furs, she stripped for a swim as well.

Dragons played with each other, riders chased and played with each other, and dragons and riders played for nearly half a candle-mark. Well played out, all four lounged on the sand until sundown, the riders on and under furs.

While they snuggled, G'raden asked Mara about her assignments and laughed at the titles of the books F'lar had given her to read. They talked about the papers she had written, with the exception of the one Mara was still working on; she didn't want his opinions, intentional or not, to influence her work.

She told him about the new journal, and he agreed that her omission had been out of respect and kindness.

They also spoke again of her upcoming month on middle night watch, and how she should change her sleeping and eating schedule. They both agreed that she should skip evening meal and sleep instead. The kitchen staff always kept something ready to eat during the night, so she could eat just before starting her watch, again at morning meal, and then at mid-day meal.

As Rukbat slipped over the western horizon, the weyrmates dressed, harnessed their dragons, and packed up the furs. Mara quickly oiled Klamath's scars before they took off toward home. A quick flight between had them over Benden in time to watch Rukbat set again, this time from chairs on the ledge of their weyr.

Normond, with no prompting, decided that Klamath should have use of the dragon's weyr for the next few days, and found an empty ridge to perch on for the night. Klamath crooned as he circled down into 'his' couch, and fell asleep soon afterwards.

G'raden and Mara took a long, warm, soaking, and rather intimate bath before going to bed. They fell asleep curled up against each other, each comforted by the mere presence of the other.

* * *

Well, I've learned two things this last two weeks:

1. I should never try to read Anne Bishop while working on Pern.

2. I don't like paraphrasing – it takes far too long, and is no fun.

Hope you'll stick with me. This short (?) section is almost done, and then I'll get back to Mara's Story and other sections.


	10. First Day in Records

Disclaimer: Still not mine. Thanks for letting me play with your world, Ms. McCaffrey!

* * *

G'raden and Mara woke the next morning well before sunrise.

Klamath, being well rested and healed, and wanting to prove as much, flew both weyrmates down to the kitchen cavern, as Normond was still sleeping peacefully.

Mara poured a mug of klah for each of them and they spoke of trivial things until the bowl lightened enough for safe running.

They ran two laps at G'raden's slower, steady pace. G'raden could run sprints if necessary, but tended to pay dearly with aching muscles afterward. Mara knew because she had teased him into sprinting about a turn ago, thinking he only needed to get used to it. After several seven-days of taunting the poor, overly patient man, and a discussion with L'ret, she realized G'raden simply wasn't built for everyday sprinting.

After running, they worked on strength exercises in the Weyr workout room, a large cavern deep in the Lower Caverns with specially built equipment designed to work on all parts of the human body, and very good ventilation. Some of the original equipment, from Benden's founding, was still usable, but as pieces deteriorated beyond repair, they had been replicated in wood; some of the nicer equipment had been fashioned out of hard, durable Skybroom wood. The weyrmates worked separately most of the time, but occasionally spotted each other on the more strenuous exercises, neither wanting the other to injure themselves. They finished as the room began to get crowded, as was their preference, neither liking to wait for the next piece of equipment in their routines, and neither being too comfortable with others watching.

Normond was awake now, so the weyrmates flew on their own dragons back to the weyr for a quick, but playful bath. They talked about G'raden's plans for the day as they dressed, and then sat on the ledge talking until the morning meal was ready.

On the way to the dining hall, Mara stopped at Wingleader F'nor's office to check the schedule. Thread would fall every third day, except for a few days when Benden's area would not be affected. F'nor's wing flew every other fall, including next day's fall, and stood ready as backup for all others. Training was held every other day between falls for half a day. So, if F'nor felt that all training was mandatory for Mara and Klamath, which she hoped, and his wing was not needed for backup, Mara would be allowed at most one and a half days every two days in the Records Room. Perhaps, though, Lessa would allow her to work prior to morning meal to make up for training and Thread fall. Mara was really looking forward to reading Benden's records.

Before picking up her meal, Mara stopped at F'nor's table for clarification on the schedule.

F'nor insisted that a recent graduate should indeed attend all training exercises. And, due to Mara's confinement, he wanted to test Klamath's endurance this day, before Thread the next day. After a slightly heated conversation with F'lar and Lessa, F'nor obtained permission for Mara to be relieved of Records duty this morning. He didn't quite understand why Mara wasn't thrilled, but ignored that; he needed to know if Klamath was able to fly a full Thread fall. As a concession to Lessa, Mara and Klamath would fly straight to Benden Hold, a two to three candle-mark flight, where Klamath would then be evaluated by Ramoth and Canth, and then could between back to Benden. Lessa didn't want Klamath worn out prior to flying Thread the next day.

Mara had mixed feelings, wanting to be ready for Thread, but wanting to get started reading the records. After last evening's flight to the coast, she felt that Klamath would be fine, but did not interfere with her wingleader's desire for proof.

F'nor and Canth accompanied Mara and Klamath. At F'nor's insistence, they flew much higher than normal, his reasoning, at least for Mara's consideration, being that they were only flying half the distance he would have preferred.

The riders spoke telepathically as they flew. The direction of F'nor's questions and comments indicated that F'lar had shared the contents of Mara's 'confinement' papers.

About halfway to Benden Hold, F'nor began repeating himself. Mara thought he was joking at first and simply repeated her own answers. But when F'nor's mind speech began slurring, and he began using confusingly inappropriate words, and she noticed Canth's eyes were yellow, she questioned the big brown.

_Canth, is your rider all right?_

_He's having trouble getting enough air._ Canth seemed quite distressed.

_Let's go to a lower altitude._

_He wanted me to stay here until he loses consciousness._

Mara was incredulous. _What? Why?_ Klamath flew a little closer to Canth's side.

_It's a test._ Canth sounded so uncharacteristically uncertain.

_A test of what?_

_Of his lungs._

_And his heart! _Mara immediately regretted causing the brown even more stress. _We go down now, Canth!_

_He wanted me to stay here._

Using her most insistent mental voice, Mara ordered, _Green level, now, Canth!_

_Agreed._

Klamath took a position even closer to Canth's side as they began losing altitude. F'nor appeared to be strapped on securely, which was good, because he was having considerable trouble sitting upright.

Mara was furious, but tried to remain calm. _What were you going to do when he lost consciousness, Canth?_

_Take him back to Benden Weyr._

_Have you done this before?_

_He says we did the same last summer. I don't remember._

As they passed the level where blues normally flew Thread, F'nor finally began communicating. _Wha . . . umm . . . why . . . are you talking to my dragon, rider?_

_Because you were talking gibberish, rider!_

There was a considerable pause. _I'm still your wingleader!_

_Which is the only reason we aren't back at the Weyr right now! What's this about, F'nor?_

F'nor glared at her across the dragon's length of space separating them. After quite a few heartbeats, he finally responded. _You know that Canth and I flew to the Red Star?_

_Everyone on Pern knows that, F'nor. What's that got to do with this?_

_My lungs were damaged. I do this test each turn to see if I'm still fit for duty._

Mara was silent for several more heartbeats. Tears threatened to fog her face mask, but she let her anger dam them. _Why didn't you warn me?_

_Two reasons._

He began sounding his normal over-confident self, thought Mara.

_Number one: F'lar wouldn't talk to me last summer, so the flight was really boring. And number two: I wanted to see what you would do._

_More tests?_

_Always._

_You . . . _Mara bit her mental tongue; he was her wingleader, after all.

_What?_ The man grinned across the space between the riders.

_Moron! _He asked!

_That's Wingleader Moron to you, brown rider! I hope you took note of our position; F'lar will want to know._

_F'lar knew about this? Is that what your debate was about this morning?_

_Did you take note of our position?_

_Of course I took note of our position, in case I needed to call for healers!_

_Good. Now, I suggest you calm down and enjoy the rest of the flight._

_You better let F'lar and Lessa know you're all right._

_Already done._

_Does Brekke know about these tests?_

_We'll talk about that when we get to Benden._

_That's what I thought. There have got to be safer ways to test your fitness, F'nor._

_We'll talk about it when we get to Benden._

_Aarrgghh!_ Mara let her frustration be heard through their telepathic connection.

F'nor let his amusement be heard as well. He was silent for the next quarter of a candle-mark.

Mara used the time to fume in private. She and Klamath fell behind Canth; she didn't want to see the man just now. She couldn't understand why F'nor would risk his life and Canth's for such a test. There had to be a better way, didn't there? By the end of F'nor's quiet time, she had decided to speak to Loralin and maybe Tarminas about ways to test lung function.

_Have you calmed down yet?_

_Almost._

_Very well._

F'nor was silent for another quarter candle-mark.

By the end of that time, Mara had decided that she could understand his need to test his fitness. She didn't approve of his methods, but did understand his need to test himself.

_Mara?_

_At what point do you decide you're unfit for duty, sir?_

_When I can't fly at that height, I'll step down as wingleader._

_Wingleaders don't fly that high._

_It would only be a matter of time, and I won't risk endangering anyone else._

Mara didn't respond as her thoughts were veering toward anger again.

_So,_ asked F'nor, _what is your problem with killing?_

_Sir?_

_F'lar said you have a problem with killing._

_I have no problem with the idea of killing to protect innocent people._

_Would you kill in self defense?_

_That would be more difficult._

_You are a highly trained, extremely valuable member of Benden Weyr!_

_As are you, sir!_

_And I have killed in self defense, more than once._

_And now you __risk__ your life and Canth's merely to test your fitness?_

_We'll discuss __that__ at Benden._

_Good._

They were both silent the remainder of their flight to Benden Hold. Each would occasionally look at the other, but would face forward quickly if the other looked at the same time.

Mara, once her anger was settled again, began considering other testing options. Surely, the healers would have safer alternatives. She ran through what had happened, and wondered what had been going through his mind as his brain began to suffer oxygen deprivation. His repeated questions had been Mara's first clue that something was wrong. Would his thoughts have given earlier warning? Maybe she could start monitoring his thoughts during Thread Fall. She decided to work on a way to ask for his permission.

And then she thought about the last part of their discussion, but in a deeper, more private part of her mind. She was angry that he had risked himself and Canth, but had trouble with the idea of killing in self defense, at least in defense of her self. She had very little problem with the thought of killing to protect any other rider or any dragon including, most definitely, Klamath. But, F'nor was right: Benden Weyr had invested a great deal into the making of this particular dragon-rider pair, probably even more than for most pairs. She and Klamath, through no malicious intent, had caused Benden Weyr quite a few problems, and the Weyr had always stood up for them. She owed Benden Weyr, and even more so, she owed Klamath everything she could possibly do to protect this brown dragon, and in order to protect him, she had to protect herself. If she died, he died, and he was far too young, and far too important to the protection of Pern. Suddenly, the thought of killing in self defense, though quite distasteful, seemed feasible. So, why, she wondered, had it taken so long to come to this conclusion?

They landed in a meadow on the outskirts of Benden Hold. F'nor had apparently notified F'lar and Lessa of their arrival time, as both weyrleaders were already dismounted and walking around their dragons.

The three senior dragons surrounded Klamath, checking his readiness to fly a full Thread fall. Klamath, though, concentrated on Canth.

As the brown riders approached the weyrleaders, Mara could see Lessa's fury and F'lar's concern.

"How far'd you get this time?" asked F'lar of F'nor. His tone left no doubt as to his opinion of this testing F'nor insisted upon.

"Mara?" F'nor deferred.

"Almost half way. There's got to be a better way . . ."

F'lar cut her off. "We'll discuss other options back at the Weyr. Did you learn anything this day, Mara?"

Mara was furious all over again, this time with the added insult of being cut off. "Your brother's a moron."

F'lar scowled, but quickly schooled his expression to a tightly controlled grin. "Half brother."

Mara shook her head as she tried to control her anger. F'lar's scowl had reminded her who she was talking too, but his comment was an attempt to diffuse her anger. She reached for that straw. "Poor Manora."

F'lar chuckled, but returned to a more serious demeanor. "Did you learn anything else?"

"A rider needs to do whatever it takes to protect his or her dragon." Mara was still referring to F'nor and Canth, but quickly recalled her own revelation.

"And?"

That confirmed that F'lar was still looking for certain answers dealing with her aversion to killing. "I will do whatever it takes to protect my Klamath, sir."

"Whatever it takes?"

"Whatever it takes! I may not like it, and I may lose some sleep, but I will do whatever it takes to protect Klamath."

"Good." He turned to F'nor and nodded his head. "I bow to your wisdom, brother."

"Half brother!" F'nor reminded him with a smile.

F'lar turned back to Mara. "We have a short meeting in the hold. Will you accompany us?"

"I'd be honored, sir."

"I'm interested in your impressions of those attending."

"Understood, sir."

As Lessa, still angry, took F'lar's offered arm and they started the walk to Benden Hold, F'nor fell into place behind her.

Mara took up a position behind F'lar, matching F'nor's. While she'd been trained in escort duties, she had never been asked to serve in that capacity, and hoped she wouldn't disappoint either her Weyrleaders or her irritating Wingleader.

_Are you wearing your knives?_ asked F'nor.

_I wore my belt knife, but wasn't aware we'd be visiting._

_In the future, you will stay fully armed at all times._

_Understood, sir._

As they approached the Hold and the throngs of people moving purposefully along the walkways, Mara wondered only briefly why she had never been asked to act as an escort. She had been excluded from most hold visits after she and Klamath had been attacked several times, but only now realized that her own aversion to killing had probably been the cause. So, why didn't F'lar or F'nor just state that reason? It took a bit more time to realize that they had allowed her to formulate her own terms dealing with the concept. She began wondering about her own slowness when F'nor interrupted her thoughts.

_Do you sense any danger?_

Mara scolded herself, but quickly focused on 'listening'. _No sir. Oops. No danger to our Weyrleaders, or you, sir._

_And you?_

_No danger at this point, but how can anyone hate someone they haven't even met?_

_Fear, brown rider. Fear of what they don't understand._

_Am I so hard to understand?_

F'nor chuckled. _Not at all, rider. Keep your ears open._

Mara glanced sideways at the grinning man. _Yes, sir._

The Benden Weyrleaders were greeted most cordially at the main door to the Hold, and led to an office off the main hall. The meeting was brief. After formal greetings and introductions, and polite questions on wellbeing, Lessa merely requested a slight adjustment in the next tithe.

As they left the Hold, a crowd had gathered along the path they would take back to the meadow.

F'lar surveyed the crowd and turned only slightly to his escorts. "Eyes and ears open, riders."

Both brown riders nodded.

Mara, a little nervous, found herself talking without thinking. "Do you always draw this sort of crowd, sir?"

Both F'lar and F'nor chuckled. F'nor answered her question. "They're here to see Pern's lady brown rider."

"Oh, shells! If I'd known, I'd have worn my shiny boots." Mara opened her mind further to listen for any signs of danger.

As they walked down the path, F'lar and Lessa were courteous to all who greeted them, but kept moving.

As they approached a turn in the path, Mara heard something threatening in her mind and then with her ears. "Down!" She turned toward whatever was flying through the air in their direction.

F'nor and F'lar both drew their knives and quickly moved to form a triangle around Lessa.

Mara raised her hands and almost contained an overripe redfruit in her gloves.

The crowd collectively gasped in shock. Several men moved slightly forward and turned to add their protection to Benden's Weyrleaders.

Mara dropped the squishy fruit to the ground and glared at the young man who had made the well-aimed throw. They made brief eye contact before he disappeared into the crowd. Mara winced at the fear in his mind, and almost smiled when she realized it was fear of being found out by his sire. She glanced around the rest of the crowd, scanning for any other signs of attack. Finding none, she reported. "Clear on this side."

"And on this side" reported F'nor.

"All clear then" added F'lar. "Stand down."

The men sheathed their knives as Lessa caught Mara's elbow and turned her. "Are you all right, dear?"

Mara forced her most reassuring smile as she answered. "I'm fine, Weyrwoman. Thank you. And you?"

Lessa grinned just slightly as she cocked her head. "You look like you've been on a battlefield."

Just then, a very kind woman handed each of them a clean rag.

Only after wiping her face, gloves and jacket did Mara realize just how overripe that fruit had been. "Eeww!" she said as she handed back the rag. "Will that wash out, kind Lady?"

The older woman blushed mightily as she laid Mara's rag over those used by the others. "Oh, yes, Lady Mara. No worries." She seemed truly pleased to have been of service to Benden's riders.

Mara half bowed and half curtsied to the woman as she backed into the crowd giggling.

Benden's Weyrleaders and their escorts resumed their walk in silence to the meadow and their dragons. The brown riders took turns walking backwards.

As they left the crowd behind, Lessa turned to Mara. "You do realize she was a drudge, don't you?"

"Drudge, smudge." Mara grimaced comically. "Not all true ladies wear fine clothing." When the men threw questioning glances her way, she added. "Did you notice how many finer dressed women also carried clean cloths?"

"Good point" said F'lar. "Your impressions of the meeting?"

Mara took a deep breath, quickly composing her answer. "All seemed quite pleased by your visit, sir. The Hold Master was worried, though, until you finally made your request, Lessa, and then he was quite relieved."

"And the crowd we just left?"

"Hmm. Most were shocked by what happened, and even embarrassed. A few found it amusing. A very few wished something sharper had been thrown, and one was frightened enough to wet his trousers when our eyes met. His sire will skin him if he's found out."

As the men chuckled, Lessa responded. "A bit of fear can be good, but respect would be better."

"I don't think he had reached that point yet when he disappeared."

F'lar continued his testing questions. "Should we report this to the Lord Holder?"

"Based on the embarrassment I heard, I think the Lord Holder will know of this very soon, if not already."

"Your impression of the thrower?"

"He was young, sir. Probably pressured by friends. After this day, he'll either learn a bit of respect or he'll grow to truly hate me."

"Let's hope it's the former" said Lessa as they drew closer to their dragons.

Mara began wondering if she had passed this particular test as she mounted Klamath and waited for F'lar's signal.

As the Weyrleader pumped his arm to launch, he focused a thought at Mara. _And, what is your impression of escort duty?_

_Umm, it's interesting, sir, almost fun._

_Are you willing to do it again?_

_Oh, definitely! Next time, with a bit of notice, I'll even wear my shiny boots!_

F'lar's hearty laughter was the last thing Mara heard before Klamath followed Mnementh between . . .

. . . and the first thing she heard on arriving over Benden Weyr. At that point, Mara decided she must not have mucked up too badly, or surely F'lar would not still be laughing.

After landing, Lessa excused Mara to get cleaned up for mid-day meal prior to an afternoon in the Records Room.

G'raden was a bit concerned by his weyrmate's appearance until he found a few bits of rind in her hair. He questioned her mercilessly as she bathed quickly and donned clean clothing.

In the dining hall, Mara found it necessary to ignore the questions of others in order to sufficiently fill her belly. She was quite relieved when Lessa nodded at her before leaving the dining hall.

"If you'll excuse me, riders, I'd rather not have my punishment extended on the very first day." She acted properly contrite at their words of sympathy, kissed G'raden's cheek when he offered to take care of her dishes, and left quickly to catch up with Lessa.

On her first day in the Records Room beneath the Weyrleader's quarters, Mara never opened a book or unrolled a hide. As she and Lessa began dusting the room, Lessa explained how the Records were organized, and typical information contained in each.

Mara found it a bit depressing to see the regression from permanent, plastic sheets with permanent inks, to paper of decreasing quality with less permanent inks, to hides of varying qualities with various quality inks.

When Lessa queried Mara on her deteriorating mood, she pointed out that more recent records were now being kept on higher quality paper with Aivas-approved permanent inks. They spoke a bit about how Pern had lost so much knowledge and how Aivas would help to reeducate all of Pern's citizens to pre-Thread levels.

Lessa went on to explain that while Aivas had recorded all of the Weyr's records, Lessa simply was not comfortable with the idea of abandoning these original records. Aivas had been unreachable for over two thousand turns, and could become unreachable again for any number of reasons. Until Aivas was decentralized and guaranteed accessible at all times, Lessa would encourage all to continue preserving what records they possessed. She was also hoping that old records could eventually be printed into books that would be available at a central library and each Weyr, Hold or Hall that desired copies.

Lessa also explained that 'copying Records' now only involved taking new Records to Landing once a seven-day for incorporation into its database and requesting printed copies of old Records that were deteriorating in the Records Room. Her junior weyrwomen usually took care of that duty, but Mara would be trained on the procedures later this seven-day. Lessa would only reserve one candle-mark per seven-day for Weyr use in an attempt to counter claims that Benden Weyr was monopolizing Aivas. The remainder of the Weyr's reserved time was used for research by other Weyr personnel.

What Lessa would request from Mara was the beginning of an index to all of Benden Weyr's Records. As Mara read through the Records for her 'timing' research, she would be asked to note where various information was located. Lessa had already started a list of subjects to be indexed, with plagues and diseases at the very top.

Lessa seemed a bit annoyed when Mara suggested that perhaps Aivas could compile an index. She was quickly appeased when Mara went on to explain that, based on what T'men had told her, the Records would still need to be read in their entirety to verify the index due to possible misspellings and word usage changes over the last two thousand turns. After Mara listed quite a few other words that might have been used in place of 'plague' or 'disease', at least one of which Lessa remembered seeing during her reading, Lessa approved of Mara's using her first session with Aivas for the purpose of obtaining an index, and at Mara's request, a second copy for marking up.

Mara's suggestion that she spend some time with the library's copy of the 'Thesaurus' before presenting a list to Aivas was approved whole heartedly. It was decided that her next session should be in the library; Lessa would give her the list at next day's morning meal.

Lessa continued dusting even after the conversation about Records had ended. After two turns being around Lessa, Mara knew better than to suggest cleaning was beneath her weyrwoman. She did begin to worry, though, about the vengeance Lessa seemed to be focusing on each shelf or box or hide tube.

After one particularly vicious snap of a rag against the wall, Mara felt compelled to intervene. "Lessa?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you all right?"

An emphatic "Hmmph" was followed by a conspiratorial smile. After studying Mara for a few heartbeats, Lessa added "You're not the first woman to call that man a moron, you know."

Mara chuckled, but blushed with embarrassment and a bit of shame. "He didn't seem at all shocked by the term."

Now Lessa laughed, but with obvious concern in her eyes. "He claims he doesn't want to risk any of his wing riders."

"But he's willing to risk himself and Canth? Isn't there another way to test his lungs?"

"The healers don't have the equipment Aivas recommends."

"I wonder if Canth notices the first symptoms" suggested Mara.

Lessa stopped dusting and stared at the shelf she was working on. "Actually he does. And he reports to Ramoth . . . when we know about this little test, but only after Ramoth demands it of him."

"Why doesn't he use the first symptoms as his measure?"

Lessa turned and stared at Mara for several more heartbeats. "Why didn't I think of that?"

Mara answered only because Lessa seemed to be waiting for an answer. "Umm, because you're so busy thinking about so many other things?"

A smile slowly spread across Lessa's face. "Why didn't the healers think of that? Or F'nor? Or F'lar?"

Mara shrugged, grimacing as if she had something to apologize for.

Lessa laughed as she put her cleaning supplies back in her bucket. "Do you mind finishing here? I need to talk to the healers, and F'lar."

"I don't mind."

Before leaving, Lessa gave Mara a big hug. "We might just save that moron from himself yet." She nearly ran out of the Records room.

Smiling at her excited Weyrwoman, Mara turned back to dusting. She loved seeing Lessa smile and laugh; she seemed to do it so rarely. F'lessan's delight in his so far highly successful venture to make Honshu a viable and valuable Weyrhold had done a lot to improve Lessa's pensive moods in the last two turns, but she took her own duties far too personally. Even minor problems seemed to darken her mood. Mara often wondered what would happen when Lessa was no longer the Weyrwoman of Benden Weyr. Would she be able to cope with being just a dragonrider? Or would she find some new project, like Honshu, to immerse herself in? Was it even possible for Lessa to simply relax and let others take responsibility? Mara wasn't sure, but certainly enjoyed those times when they relaxed together, even if they never lasted very long. And she took a small measure of privately held pride in the fact that she could almost always make her Weyrwoman smile when she seemed almost overwhelmed with responsibilities.

Lessa returned smiling broadly as Mara was dusting the last shelf.

"Good news?" asked Mara.

Lessa began mopping the floor as she spoke. "Brekke and Tarminas are being flown to Healer Hall to chat with Master Oldive. Tarminas was a bit embarrassed that he didn't know the earliest symptoms of oxygen deprivation."

"What'd F'nor have to say?"

Lessa raised her eyebrows and smiled coyly. "We haven't told him yet."

"Why?" Mara stood up from the last shelf, and noticed Lessa's twinkling eyes and unusual smile.

Lessa focused on a non-existent tough spot on the floor. "We didn't want to give him false hope."

Her Weyrwoman's statement didn't sound complete. "And?"

Lessa's head and shoulder's twitched as if she were a child caught at mischief. She finally turned a full blown grin at Mara. "We need more information before we can confront him with proof that he's a moron."

Mara's jaw dropped, but she grinned at this new side of Lessa. "Do you think it will work? Can you prove he's a moron?"

Lessa's nose twitched as her grin transformed into a grimace. "No. But it's always fun trying."

Both laughed as Mara picked up their buckets and moved the water bucket while Lessa finished mopping the floor.

Before finishing the last little bit they were standing in, Lessa turned to look up at Mara, quite serious now. "You do realize that F'nor is a very intelligent man, don't you?"

Smiling for confirmation, Mara answered just as seriously. "Yes, ma'am, I do." Then her face twitched. "He just doesn't act very intelligent some times."

"Do you know why that is?"

"I think so. People are much more relaxed around F'nor than F'lar, so they say things they would never say to F'lar."

"That's right. So, it's easier for F'nor to get a feel for the mood of the Weyr than it is for me or F'lar."

"So F'nor is another set of ears for you and F'lar."

"Correct. Now you get rid of all this, and meet me in my weyr. We'll discuss that subject list for the index."

Mara put away all the cleaning supplies, cleaning the mop first, and met Lessa in her weyr.

Lessa had been busy as well, collecting refreshments for their discussion. She knew from an earlier brief conversation that Mara's eating schedule was being altered to accommodate night watch duty, so chose light, but satisfying snacks.

They spent the last candle-mark before evening meal with the list between them on the small table. After a short discussion about the list, they moved on to a mostly serious discussion of how F'lar would like Mara's help at meetings. Lessa was a bit surprised that Mara had no problem with eavesdropping on others thoughts to help F'lar maintain peaceful and productive conversations. She wasn't at all surprised to learn that Mara had, on her own initiative some time ago, drawn a line on which thoughts could be discussed and which were too private. She was also pleased to learn that the line was quite flexible, depending entirely on various circumstances.

The meeting drew to a close as both women began hearing dragons discussing the logistics of getting their riders to the evening meal. Before allowing Mara to leave, though, Lessa reached into her clothing nook and pulled out a small carisak.

"I have something for you, Mara." She pulled out a small crockery container painted with dragons flying through clouds. Quite a few holes appeared decoratively spaced around the sides, one in the eye of each dragon and others evenly spaced above and below the dragons. There was no top, but inside was a smaller glass container holding wax with a cloth wick sticking up.

Mara studied it closely, smiling at the multi colored, somewhat whimsical dragons. "It's beautiful, Lessa. What is it?"

Lessa chuckled; she had asked the same question over thirty turns ago when F'lar had given her a similar gift for this very weyr. Her eyes misted slightly as she recalled how hard F'lar had tried to make her comfortable at Benden Weyr, and at how she had misconstrued so many of his attempts. Yes, he had wanted a strong Weyrwoman, but he had also wanted so much more, and she, out of need for revenge for the atrocities in her life, had fought him for so long.

Mara witnessed the reminiscence in her friend's eyes and wondered about the increasing frequency of such occurrences; perhaps Lessa was simply growing more comfortable in her presence. "Lessa?"

Lessa smiled. "It's a pot warmer, dear. It'll keep a pot of klah or tea warm for candle-marks." She showed Mara how to use the device, placing their pot of tea on the open top. "I've asked Manora to brew a pot of her sleep-time herb tea for you. It will help you sleep even when you don't think you can. F'lar and I use it often."

Mara, with tears threatening, thanked Lessa profusely for such a beautiful and thoughtful gift.

As Lessa helped her repack the pot warmer, she pointed out the extra candles and informed Mara that empty containers needed to be returned to Manora or her staff for refilling.

They spoke of other herbal teas that Manora could provide as they walked across the bowl to the dining cavern. F'lar met them at the entrance and escorted Lessa to the head table as Mara went into the kitchen area for her pot of sleep-time tea.

The tea wasn't quite ready, so after Manora handed Mara a small packet of herbs for her first pre-watch cup of klah, Mara sat with G'raden and his 'brothers' for a short while.

As G'raden watched with humor lighting his brown eyes, G'regg and B'nor gave her hints for staying awake during the most boring watch of any night. Mara graciously accepted their advice; though, based on her own experiences of night watch at the fire heights, she was sure that staying awake would not be a problem. She loved the quiet, peaceful solitude of night watch. It gave her time to think through any problems she might be having, or bothersome questions she always seemed to have, and F'lar had certainly given her plenty of thought provoking material to keep her awake during a month's worth of night watches.

When a kitchener delivered Mara's tea, she thanked the brothers for their help.

G'raden walked with her out of the dining hall. Before she mounted Klamath, he took the pot of tea from her and asked what was in the carisak.

Mara grinned. "You'll see when you come up." She didn't want to speak of a gift from Lessa with other people passing by.

G'raden leaned forward and gave her a sweet kiss. "I'll be up in a few hours. I'd like to be awake when you finish your watch."

"I'll leave some of this tea for you. It's Manora's sleep-time brew."

"Mmm, good." He kissed her again before letting her climb up Klamath's side. When she was in place, he stood on the brown's leg to pass up the tea pot. "Sleep well, love."

"See you in the morning." Mara shooed him back into the dining hall before Klamath launched into the air.

In their weyr, Mara set up the pot warmer, poured a mug of tea and placed the pot on the warmer. Sitting at the table to drink the tea, she smiled at the way the dragons seemed to be moving; she knew it was only a trick of the candle lighting inside, but enjoyed the effect none the less.

Feeling extremely relaxed after the first mug of tea, she removed her boots and most of her outer clothing before pouring another mug. She also pulled her journal out of her 'personal drawer' under the bed G'raden had built. Over the second mug of tea, she entered the events of the day, and her thoughts and feelings about what all had occurred.

By the time she made her last entry, she was yawning. With a silent thank you to Manora for the tea, and another to Lessa for the pot warmer, she put away her journal, turned out the glows and went to bed, falling asleep almost instantly.

* * *

Sorry for the delay. Please review!

Nearing the end of this little story, then I'll get back to Mara's Story.


	11. First Middle Night Watches

Disclaimer: Same as before.

* * *

_Mara?_

_Hmmmm?_

_It's time to get up._

_Mmmmm._

_Krileth says we have half a candle-mark._

Klamath tried to be patient, but was well aware that time was limited. He still didn't understand his human's need to do everything according to 'time', but did understand that being 'on time' was important to her and to others who could make her unhappy if they were not 'on time'.

_Mara?_ No response. _We don't want to be late. Mnementh's rider would get angry._

Mara's eyes opened to almost total darkness. Where was that light coming from, she wondered. Ah, G'raden left a glow turned in the necessary and left the curtain open a bit.

_Do I need to wake up Normond?_

Mara rolled forward, away from the warm body she had been lounging against. _Why would you wake up Normond?_

_Normond could wake up your weyrmate and he could pinch you until you get out of bed._

Mara smiled as she groggily rolled off the bed. _Oh, you mean dragon, you!_

_Or I could wake up Canth and he could wake up his rider to come and pinch you._

_Oh, you are so wicked!_ Mara walked to the necessary room, taking some of her clothing with her.

_Or, I could wake up Canth and Mnementh and both their riders could pinch you._

_Now you're being truly evil, my love!_

_Or, I could wake up Arlith . . ._

_I'm gonna pinch __you__!_

Mara heard two huffs from beyond the curtain separating weyrs and laughed quietly as she finished quickly dressing. Remembering F'nor's suggestion that she fully arm herself, she dug quietly into one of her under-bed drawers for the matching boot knives that G'regg and B'nor had gifted her with last Turnover.

After sheathing the knives, she picked up the small packet of herbs Manora had given her, wondering if she really needed them. At the completion of that thought, a long deep yawn threatened to tear the corners of her mouth and dislocate her jaw. She placed the herbs in her belt pouch. The writing pad and carbon sticks F'lar had given her went into a carisak along with the papers she had written during confinement. She would have plenty to keep her awake during middle night watch for the next month.

G'raden mumbled something as he rolled over and sprawled spread-wherry, face down across the entire bed.

As she reached back into the necessary room, Mara said quietly, "Sleep well, my handsome bronze rider," just before turning the glow shut. She walked carefully through the pitch black room, through the dragon covered curtain, and into Normond and Klamath's weyr.

A blue-green glow lit her way to the ledge where Klamath watched her approach. She turned a glow near the ledge and quickly applied riding straps to her large, and still growing, brown.

Carisak over her shoulder, she turned the glow closed and carefully mounted Klamath. After she reached her perch and fastened herself to the straps, she leaned down toward Klamath's shoulder and grabbed a chunk of hide, squeezing, but not enough to hurt.

_What was that for?_ asked Klamath.

_Arlith?_

Klamath huffed. _Hold on,_ he said as he stepped off the ledge and only then began to spread his wings.

_Oooo, you beast!_ Mara teased. As she regained her seating, she asked, _Will you ask Krileth how much time we have left, love?_

After a brief pause, the brown answered. _Just under a quarter candle-mark and his rider says the glow should last till daylight._

_Thank you, love. Let's see what's in the kitchen._

Just inside the main living cavern, klah and a hearty stew were being kept warm over the night hearth. A shelf high above the fire, but inside the hearth held small loaves of bread. Another shelf a bit lower held a large bowl of water to keep the bread soft with the gentle steam it created. On a table nearby were quite a few clean skins for klah, skins already filled with water, and a tray of clean mugs, bowls, spoons, and clean cloth napkins. On the same table was a tray with butter, jams, sweetener, salt, and a common butter knife on a napkin already used several times to clean said knife.

Mara ladled a bit of klah into a mug and tested it; it would need to be watered down a bit later, but was fine for now. She emptied the mug and put it in her carisak. She filled another mug with stew and after sampling it, added a bit of salt. She licked the spoon clean and tucked it into her belt. She took a loaf of bread, cut it open, spread butter and jam on either side, folded it back together, wrapped it in a clean napkin, and carefully placed it into her carisak. After cleaning the knife on the communal napkin, she filled a small skin with klah and took another skin of water. Tossing the skins and carisak over her shoulder, she sat the mug of stew in the center of another opened napkin. She pulled up the corners, tied small, tight knots to create a sling and carried it outside.

"Will you help me with this, Klamath?"

Klamath dutifully moved his head so that his muzzle was level with Mara's face. As he lowered his jaw, exposing his massive teeth, he questioned her, _Is that cooked meat?_

_Yes, love. _Mara answered as she draped the napkin over one of his teeth. _Its stew; with meat and vegetables and some of that hearty grain I like so much. And it's hot, so please be careful._

_I'll be careful._ Klamath watched as his rider climbed to his back. _Why do humans cook their meat?_

As Mara found her seating, she noticed a bit of mischievous yellow in her brown's eyes. He often asked her this particular question. She always tried to give a different answer, partly to test his memory and partly to stretch her own imagination. This day, or night, she was a bit too tired to come up with anything new, so chose to answer with a question of her own. _Why don't dragons eat vegetables?_

Klamath nearly growled as Mara fastened her riding straps. _Meat beasts eat vegetables – not dragons!_

_Ahh._ Mara removed the dangling mug of stew from Klamath's outstretched muzzle. _Humans eat vegetables. Are we meat beasts?_ She was somewhat tickled to see a bit of worried orange in those beautiful eyes as Klamath considered an appropriate response.

_Humans eat cooked meat. Meat beasts eat only vegetables. Humans are not meat beasts. _Feeling, through his rider, that she was now prepared, Klamath launched into the air.

As the big brown rose above the bowl, circling the interior to gain altitude, Mara continued the teasing. _Felines eat humans._

_Felines are stupid. They don't know how important people can be._

_All people? _Mara grew slightly concerned when Klamath took extra time to think about this.

_Some people should be eaten._

Klamath seemed quite distressed about his statement. He had risen above the level of the fire heights, so Mara chose to continue the now serious discussion later.

Klamath glided to a graceful landing at the end of the fire heights opposite where the current watch rider and his dragon stood waiting. Both moons were high in the sky this night, lighting the fire heights almost as brightly as daylight. Mara dismounted carefully with her mug of stew, and she and Klamath walked to meet the others.

Mara extended her hand to the blue rider who was a little older than her and about a head shorter. "Good . . . um . . . night, T'per!"

T'per smiled broadly as he grasped her arm. "Well met, Mara! I feared you might be late this first night. I was dreading reporting such."

Mara laughed. "Klamath would not have allowed us to be late. He's very conscientious, you know."

T'per squeezed her arm and glanced at Klamath. "Unlike his rider, I'm sure." He laughed when Klamath's eyes showed some orange. "I'm teasing, Klamath. We all know how dedicated your rider is to your duties." He laughed again when Klamath huffed once at him.

The riders walked toward the star stones as T'per filled Mara in on relevant happenings of the previous watch. A group of riders, mostly green and blue, went to Tillek for some sort of gathering and should return shortly, if they know what's good for them. A good number of them were to fly Thread the coming day. A couple of older weyrlings were spied sneaking out of the barracks; L'ret had been awakened to deal with them, so T'per suggested any further transgressions be brought to his assistants' attention; wouldn't want to disturb L'ret's mood improving sleep, he joked.

They shared Mara's klah as they went through the watch log, Mara adding Manora's powdered herbs to hers, and T'per promising to bring her more klah before retiring. They each made the required shift change entries in the log. Before leaving, T'per reminded her that the time piece was only to be wound at high sun each day. It had already been over-wound twice since F'lar acquired it, each occurrence requiring repairs and earning the offending riders extra watch duties.

Mara waited until T'per delivered another skin of klah to return to the previous discussion with Klamath. _You said that some people should be eaten._

_Yes._

_Which people should be eaten, love?_

_The mean people who hurt others._

_Should Tagamarth's rider be eaten?_ Mara knew that Klamath remembered what had happened over a seven-day ago; he kept asking her about it, trying to understand human behaviors, and Mara had to admit, she had spent too much time thinking about it as well.

Klamath took his time thinking through what he knew and thought he understood. _If he had not learned the reasons for his anger, and if he continued hurting people, yes, he should be eaten._

_What if he had not learned? When should he be eaten?_

_The next time he tried to hurt someone like he did us._

_Lots of people hurt each other all the time._

_Do they try to kill each other?_

_Some of them do._

_Then they should be eaten._

_So, if someone tries to kill someone else, they should be eaten?_

_Yes._

_What if someone talks about killing others?_

_They should be watched very closely and talked to._

_What if someone talks someone else into killing?_

_They should both be eaten._

_What if someone tries to kill someone else, but is stopped?_

_He should be talked to and punished, like Tagamarth's rider, and watched closely, like Tagamarth's rider._

Mara continued posing different scenarios to her beloved brown as she ate her meal. She had been very careful to think about F'lar's paper on killing only when Klamath slept, so was rather surprised that Klamath's statements mirrored her own hard earned opinions, except that she would seldom suggest anyone be 'eaten'. It was determined that stopping a killing was preferable to Klamath, and that the would-be killer should then be punished and 'talked to'; only those who actually succeeded in killing should be 'eaten' (Klamath's version of execution).

They also discussed accidental killings. Klamath could understand accidents, but decided that someone who 'accidentally' kills more than once might need to be eaten, for the safety of others, or at the very least, watched very closely.

They went on to discuss honor duels. Mara was not at all surprised that she needed to define the concept; it had been discussed during weyrling training, of course, but Klamath didn't remember. Honorable honor duels were supposed to end with first blood, but Klamath agreed that, if requested, he would refrain from eating anyone who carried the duel further, unless they managed to hurt his rider. Then he would be hard pressed to not take the dishonorable person between. The thought of his rider being hurt was so stressful to Klamath that Mara did not mention the possibility of being killed in a duel; no need to stress her sweet dragon any further.

When the riders returned from Tillek, Klamath broadcast a welcome instead of bugling; he didn't want to wake anyone. He and his rider determined rather quickly that all who left earlier had returned and that a few of them would likely be seeking a hangover cure later this day.

As Mara noted the time of their arrival in the log book, she realized it was almost time to summon the next watch rider. She would have to be more careful about keeping track of time. Talking with Klamath was always enjoyable, no matter what the subject, and it was far too easy to lose track when no one else was around.

As she and Klamath began speaking of the coming day's activities, Mara noted that people were already moving around in the bowl. Kitchen workers were moving buckets of black rock into the kitchen and smoke was already billowing from some of the hearth stacks on the nearby peak. A few riders were already up and moving around as well, some just from one weyr to another, and some toward the kitchen.

After Klamath called the next watch rider's dragon, they determined that Klamath's scars should be oiled again before flying Thread late this afternoon, and that hunting could wait until the next day. He would definitely need a bath after Thread, but a quick dip might be sufficient, if a more thorough bath followed the next morning.

Mara had just promised a thorough bath and oiling when the morning watch rider arrived. Shift change didn't take long as so little happened. After reminding the next rider not to wind the time piece, Mara and Klamath flew down to the kitchen to return her eating utensils, and then up to the weyr. Mara wanted to take a nap before beginning a very long day. Thread would fall until nearly sundown this day, several candle-marks past her new bed time.

G'raden was still asleep when Mara entered, this time face up, but still spread across the large bed. Mara quickly undressed, and after a light touch to an arm cleared her side of the bed, lay down and snuggled into her weyrmate's arms.

She woke a couple of candle-marks later to a large hand stroking her hair. "Mmmm. Is the sun up?" she asked.

"Mmm hmm. And the morning meal is ready. Normond just informed me that our weyrleaders just entered the dining hall."

Mara slid out of his arms onto her back to see his beautifully expressive eyes. "I'd better go then" she said apologetically.

"Mmm hmm." He smiled and licked his lips, but didn't move otherwise, one arm still lying across her.

She rolled to face him and kissed him soundly, longingly, and regretfully. "I really do have to go."

"Mmm hmm." He let her roll away, but kept one hand on her as long as possible.

She shivered at his gentle touch, wishing she could start this day a little bit later. "You're insatiable, you know?"

"Mmm hmm." He chuckled. "I will never get enough of you."

As she pulled on her trousers, she asked, "Are you trying to make me feel guilty?" She knew better from what she could 'hear' of his thoughts, but enjoyed playing his games; they served well to build anticipation for future encounters.

"Mmm hmm." This was hard to say with a wide grin.

As she pulled on her tunic, she mock scolded, "Well, it's not going to work. Duty first!" She swiveled her hips more than necessary while tucking the tunic into her trousers.

"Uhh huh." When she sat on the bed to don her boots, he trailed one finger back and forth across her back, starting near her shoulders and ending at her trouser tops. He loved the way she shivered at his touch. As she began to stand, he held the back of her trousers, and pulled her back onto the bed.

Mara flopped backward and landed, thanks to a guiding hand, back in his arms. She rolled toward him as best she could while trying to keep her boots off the bed coverings, and kissed him again, with all the passion she could muster. When his hands tried to pull her closer, she put a hand on his bare chest and pushed. "Duty first!"

G'raden growled, but managed "Mm hm" before he started laughing. He watched as she finished dressing; she fastened her belt, complete with belt knife, and placed a knife in each of her boots. "Why the knives this day?"

"F'nor wants me to stay fully armed. And F'lar and Lessa might be asking me to provide escort duties soon." She could 'hear' his concern at the last statement, but also 'heard' him scold himself.

"It's about time you got out of the Weyr more."

Mara grinned and batted her eyelids. "It'd be more fun to go with you." She pirouetted away from her weyrmate and walked with an exaggerated sway to snatch her carisak from the table before leaving the weyr.

"Wait for me!"

Mara heard the bed coverings tossed aside and then a loud thump and a grunt. She peaked back into the room to make sure he was alright. When he sat up from the floor, half smiling and half grimacing, but not hurt, she crooned apologetically, "I don't want to be late."

"Go. I'm fine." He shooed her away, smiling now. "I'll meet you down below."

Mara tossed him a kiss and giggled when he moaned. She hurried to the weyr's ledge where Klamath waited patiently and donned his fighting straps, inspecting extra carefully in preparation for Thread later in the day.

In the dining hall, after loading a tray with food and drinks, Mara was summoned to the Weyrleaders' table. Lessa moved her plate with bread and fruit over one seat and Mara was directed to sit between them.

As Mara took her seat, Lessa surveyed her tray with wide eyes. "Can you really eat all that, dear?"

Mara looked at the tray, then at Lessa, and again at the tray. She grimaced apologetically at Lessa. "I only took a mug of stew and a loaf of bread up to the fire heights. I'm pretty hungry."

Lessa bit her lips, but said nothing, and fought to keep from smiling.

F'lar cleared his throat to get the brown rider's attention. When she looked his way, he tried to sound stern even as his eyes danced with laughter. "How was your watch?"

Mara took a deep breath and tried to look cautious. "Uneventful, sir."

"When did the riders return from Tillek?"

"Just before three and a quarter candle-marks, sir." Mara wondered if he were having trouble asking a more difficult question.

"What else did you do to pass the time?"

She took another deep breath while she arrived at the shortest, most precise answer. "Klamath and I had a very long discussion about when people should and should not be eaten, sir."

F'lar frowned, moved his plate away from the edge of the table, and moved his hand to the side of his face, elbow resting on the table. "This is part of your punishment, rider," he said with still laughing eyes and now twitching mouth. "Do not make me laugh."

Mara fought to keep her face composed. "Actually, sir, it was a very serious and insightful discussion."

"How so?"

"Klamath's thoughts on killing very closely match what I've fought to come to terms with since your assignment of that particular paper."

"Really! And do you wish to rewrite your paper?"

"Yes, sir. The basic beliefs are the same, but I'd like to rephrase a good portion, and I'd like to make some additions."

"I look forward to reading that paper within the next few days."

Mara nodded understanding. "Yes, sir."

F'lar spoke with continued sternness, still with humor in his eyes. "Very well. I believe Lessa has an assignment for you." With that, he turned back to his morning meal.

Mara turned around to face Lessa, whose eyes also betrayed a very stern countenance.

Lessa handed the brown rider a long list of subjects to be indexed from the Records, and then questioned her on the discussion between rider and dragon on the fire heights. She seemed rather pleased at the draconic logic Klamath used to distinguish humans from 'meat beasts' and dragons. She was still not pleased with Mara spending so much time thinking about the subject of killing, but definitely understood F'lar's need to determine her beliefs and abilities.

Mara saw her Weyrwoman's concern and reluctant acceptance, and tried to make light of the subject without making her laugh. They would certainly have more time to talk later, and Mara was determined to help Lessa understand that as a brown rider, she might well be required to perform more difficult tasks than other women riders. At that time, Mara hoped to help Lessa laugh about the situation.

Mara was dismissed to eat with her friends. G'regg teased her relentlessly until G'raden joined the group, and then turned his teasing to G'raden for being so late to the meal.

Mara ate everything on her tray and noticed Lessa shaking her head as she downed the last bite. She excused herself from the table, gave G'raden a more than sweet kiss, and headed for the library.

She spent the entire morning with the 'Thesaurus' and compiled several pages of synonyms to the words Lessa had listed. She was just placing the pages carefully between pages of her writing pad when a young weyr lad entered the library announcing the mid-day meal was ready. She thanked this day's librarian, an elderly man who had once worked with the herd beasts and wherries, and followed the youngster back to the main cavern.

Mid-day meal was spent with F'nor's wing. The wingsecond Mara was assigned to took a special interest in her this day. The seasoned bronze rider asked her questions as if she had never flown Thread before. Mara mentally gave him the benefit of the doubt as she had only two months experience prior to being scored and answered as if she were still a weyrling, with all the appropriately placed 'yes, sir's and 'no, sir's.

It was decided, after much discussion between F'nor and his wingsecond within Mara's hearing (and long before this meal, Mara 'heard') that she and Klamath would fly between the blues and the greens this day. If they proved themselves fully capable, they would be moved up a position each Thread fall until they were where they best fit within the wing. Neither Mara nor Klamath had any objections, both realizing they were being coddled a bit after missing a fall and training exercises, and both feeling confident they would be back among the browns in less than a month.

When the meal was done, riders flying Thread all flew to their weyrs to don their fighting gear. They soon met at prearranged locations in the bowl for inspections, weather forecast briefings, and tactical discussions.

As Mara waited for her gear inspection, she applied oil to Klamath's scars. They were healing quite nicely, but still itched on occasion and were not yet as flexible as they should be.

It was a beautiful, very warm, mostly windless summer day. Riders were all reminded, mostly for the benefit of recent graduates, to carry extra water; flying jackets were not to be unfastened for any reason while flying Thread, no matter how warm the weather.

Fall this day was almost uneventful; a few riders received minor scoring, and there were the usual sprains and strains from misjudgments during firestone throwing.

Mara and Klamath relished fighting Thread again, though flying among the greens and blues was as harrowing this day as Mara remembered from shortly after being included in this wing. The greens and blues were so quick and agile; it was tempting to both dragon and rider to try to keep up with them. But they maintained the slower, steady pace they had learned during their first two months with the wing, and were able to fly the entire Fall.

That evening, G'raden, in his infinite generosity, bathed Klamath while Mara bathed herself. When both were clean, G'raden first oiled Klamath's itchy spots and then oiled the scars on Mara's back. She was deep in sleep within heartbeats of his first gentle massaging touch.

G'raden flew Normond down to the main living cavern to spend the last few candle-marks of the day with his friends. F'lar called him to the Council Chambers for a short meeting, the subject of which he did not discuss with his 'brothers'. Before returning to the weyr, he procured some meat rolls, a few pieces of fruit, a pitcher of klah, and a packet of Manora's 'wake-up herbs'. He placed them on the table, the klah on her new pot warmer, where Mara would find them when she was woken later this night, took a quick bath, and being careful to not disturb her, joined her in sleep.

Middle night watch that night was difficult, despite Manora's invigorating herbs. Mara was disgusted that she was so fatigued. At a younger age, she had often survived on less than five candle-marks of sleep. Klamath didn't help, declaring that he too was quite tired and he had seen only two turns. To avoid falling asleep, they both paced the fire heights and consciously kept watch over their Weyr, talking of hunting and flying and other day-to-day things.

F'nor surprised them both by joining them for the last candle-mark of the watch. He claimed that he never slept very well after a Fall, too busy reviewing everything that had happened and making plans for changes in future Falls. He questioned Mara, and Klamath, about Fall the previous day, and laughed at their embarrassment at never needing a replenishment of firestone due to the blue and green dragons doing such a fine job, and eventually managed an almost hidden compliment of their performance.

"Browns and bronzes among blues and greens often overextend themselves until they learn their own limits and capabilities" he said.

After Klamath called the next watch rider's dragon, they spoke about the Fall and other things until the rider stirred from his weyr. Then F'nor left, claiming he didn't want Brekke waking up alone.

Mara and Klamath returned to their weyr, both tired and both feeling good about F'nor's visit. Both fell asleep quickly and slept peacefully and soundly.

* * *

Sorry for the delay. Chapters should come quicker now.

Thank you for reading, and thanks so much for your kind reviews!

Hope you all had a wonderful holiday season!


	12. A Morning in Cove Hold

Mara and Klamath slept soundly until G'raden gently woke them for the morning meal.

On waking, Mara felt rather disconnected, as if she were still dreaming. Definitely getting older, she thought to herself.

G'raden seemed in good spirits this day, grinning almost foolishly at her near drunken behavior.

Mara's 'punitive' meeting with the Weyrleaders was short and reserved. F'lar only asked about night watch, and granted that Wingleader F'nor was an exception to the 'no visitors' rule. Lessa merely said that she would meet Mara in the Records Room after breaking their fasts. Both Weyrleaders looked concerned about her semi-confused state of mind, but neither commented or asked any questions.

Mara was ravenous this morning, wishing with confusion that there was some rare meat available.

G'regg and B'nor teased only mildly this day, which served to confuse Mara even more. What was going on?

As G'raden walked Mara to the Records Room, Mara expressed her sincere appreciation for his help last evening. She was tired enough, and still confused enough, that his accompaniment into the Records Room only registered when Lessa greeted them.

Lessa closed the door and ushered them to seats around the table. She sat across from them and detailed what she expected.

"I've added a few more subjects to the index listing, so I'd like you to go to Landing early. They also have a 'Thesaurus'. Lenarra and Tianna will arrive at the tenth candle-mark with our Records, and I want you, Mara, to learn the process of recording them. Then, you can ask Aivas for the printed index and G'raden can use the remainder of Benden's candle-mark."

She turned her attention to G'raden. "I'd like you to show her around Landing. Introduce her to the key personnel and show her where to find anything she might need on future visits." Now she squinted slightly. "You're to be back before mid-day meal. I expect you to make good use of your time, G'raden."

Mara was confused again by her Weyrwoman's apparent reprimand, but even more confused by G'raden's broad, knowing grin.

"Yes, Weyrwoman. We will make good use of our time in Landing."

"Mara," Lessa now squinted slightly at her, "you and Klamath are to follow G'raden and Normond's directions going _between_ this day, understood?"

Mara frowned. "Yes, Weyrwoman." Did Lessa really doubt their ability that much?

Lessa noticed the consternation in Mara's response. "You're tired, dear, and I don't want to risk losing you, understood?"

Now Mara relaxed and smiled. Lessa was just being motherly. "Yes, Weyrwoman. I understand."

"Good. Take this, G'raden." She handed him a small pocket sized timepiece. "Go, then." Lessa lead the way to the door, opened it, and motioned the riders to leave, placing a hand briefly on G'raden's arm as he passed. His smile and nod gave her some measure of security.

Mara waited until they reached their weyr to question G'raden. "Do you think I'm too tired to go _between_ without directions?"

G'raden caught her arm as they walked toward the inner weyr, spun her to face him, and kept her steady as she nearly fell. He studied her face, with slight smudges beneath her bloodshot eyes, and responded firmly. "Yes." He then let loose of her arm and continued through the dragon hanging.

Mara gaped at him for several heartbeats before following. When she passed the hanging, G'raden was stuffing a rolled up lightweight fur into a medium sized carisak.

"Pack your lightest summer clothing; it's much warmer in Landing than here at Benden," he instructed. He reached into the clothing nook for some light weight clothing of his own.

Mara did as instructed, packing a light weight summer outfit in with her writing pad and word list, but finally curiosity won out. "Why did you pack a fur?"

G'raden merely grinned before returning to his task. "You'll see."

Finished packing, Mara watched as G'raden dug into one of his drawers under the bed and retrieved a small, but well packed, hide belt pouch. As he fastened it to his belt, Mara's curiosity turned to confusion.

"Why are you taking marks? We'll be back before mid-day meal."

"Landing has lots of shops. We might have a little time to visit some of them."

"Should I take my marks?"

"You won't need them. Ready?" He grabbed an already packed, smaller carisak from under the table. When Mara's questioning eyes caught his, he said simply, "You'll see," and walked past the Lytol dragon weaving into the dragons' weyr.

Mara followed her weyrmate to the ledge, shaking her head, wondering what he was up to, wishing the fog would lift from her mind, wondering if Manora's herbs might help. G'raden was already mounted on Normond, so she followed his example, and promptly forgot about stopping at the kitchen to speak with Manora.

She 'heard' Normond talking to Klamath, and was grateful that they would be following Normond and G'raden; the only thing she seemed capable of visualizing was the darkness behind closed eyes as she snuggled up to G'raden in their bed.

Normond looked back at Mara and huffed repeatedly as he turned back to step off the ledge. Klamath followed after a safe wait. The brown dragon followed the bronze dragon around and out of the Weyr bowl. With no advance warning Mara was aware of, they blinked into _between_.

Mara caught her breath at the sudden, unexpected cold and began counting. She grew somewhat worried as her counting exceeded its normal range.

Klamath reassured his rider. _We are safe with Normond._

Before she could respond, they were back in daylight over the sea facing Cove Hold, not Landing. Mara's brow creased when she noticed how low Rukbat sat in the eastern sky. Normond bugled a greeting to the dragons lounging on the ridge overlooking the western end of the beach and several people swimming in the sea. A pair of drudges working at the eastern cooking pits waved and then pointed toward the other end of the beach.

_Mynth is here!_ Klamath was quite excited at this announcement.

_Is Cally in the water?_

Klamath didn't answer as he was engaged in a conversation with Mynth, his first draconic love.

Normond and Klamath landed on the western beach away from spread furs and sunbathing riders.

Mara again followed G'raden's example and removed the riding straps from her big excited brown. She rolled them carefully, wiping off any sand, and tied them to her carisak. Klamath immediately took off to find a spot near Mynth. G'raden was already walking toward the water's edge. Mara had to run to catch up and grabbed his arm to stop his progress. "You timed it!" she said quietly and accusingly.

"Uh huh." He tried, not too hard, to resume his walking, but was spun back around toward Mara. He grinned impudently at her distress.

"G'raden," she nearly whispered, "you know why I'm being punished, right?"

"Uh huh." He nodded and looked just a bit confused.

"Then, why?"

"To make the best use of our time this day." He winked and turned back toward the water.

Mara shook her head, certain she had just recently heard that very same, or similar, combination of words, but could that have been a dream? Or was this a dream? She caught up with G'raden and put a hand on his arm, but didn't try to stop his forward movement. "I don't understand."

The big man put his hand over hers and looked as if he would like to laugh. "You will, very soon."

"Mara? G'raden? Is that really you?" A sweet voice called from near the water.

Mara stopped, turned toward the voice and stared, mouth open and slowly forming a smile, while G'raden did pretty much the same but continued walking to close the distance between them.

G'raden managed to speak first. "Cally? Is that you?" When the young woman laughed, he sounded shocked. "You've grown!"

She had indeed grown! Her petite frame could no longer be mistaken for that of a young lad except perhaps in bulky full winter dress. The young woman with short curly blonde hair wore a few patches of fabric tied with string that covered, but didn't hide, only a few of her key feminine attributes. She brazenly twirled around, arms in the air, displaying all her recently developed curves, as she skipped, giggling, toward the nearly matching dragonriders, and then launched herself into a hug with G'raden.

G'raden caught and held her with hands on her back, and spun her around, legs flying. "I'd know that giggle anywhere," he said through his laughter.

"Oh, I've missed you G'raden," said Cally as he lowered her to the ground. She still had to reach up to place hands on either side of his face. "You are as handsome and as sweet as ever!"

"And you!" G'raden put hands on her shoulders and pushed her away to have one more look. "You are prettier than ever, my little green rider! You better stop getting so pretty, or the bronze riders will be fighting over you!"

Cally gave him her 'I don't believe you' face, and turned toward Mara. "Aren't you going to say hello?" She immediately regretted such brashness when Mara nearly stumbled walking closer.

"I thought I'd wait till my weyrmate was done fondling you!" Mara stumbled again, but Cally steadied her as they met in a big hug. "You look wonderful, Cally, and so happy!"

"Are you all right, Mara?" Cally stepped back but kept her hands on Mara's arms.

"Oh, I'm just tired, Healer Cally."

"She's not tired," offered G'raden as he slipped an arm around Mara. "She's just not all here." When Cally looked shocked, he added, "We timed it. She'll be fine as soon as she falls asleep at the Weyr."

"You timed it? Master Oldive was telling me about the effects of timing it, just yesterday! Can I ask you some questions, Mara? And why don't you show any signs, G'raden?"

"Ha! I'm still sleeping in Benden. You'll see a difference when I wake up." An arm around each, he turned both of 'his girls' toward the hall. "We're expected at the house. You can ask your questions on the way."

Cally broke away. "Let me get my tunic. Lord Lytol and D'ram have trouble looking at me like this, and Master Wansor just grins; he must hear or feel something from the other two." She ran gracefully to her spot on the beach, snatched up a long lightweight tunic from her spread-out fur, hardly slowing down, and ran back as she pulled it over her head.

Apprentice Healer Cally inundated Mara with questions about how she was feeling as they walked toward the Hall at Cove Hold. G'raden laughed a few times, earning himself scowls from both girls.

About halfway to the Hall, Mara noticed an older man walking toward them. His craggy face was deeply etched with burn scars, and his brow seemed permanently furrowed as if he had lived a very difficult life. Mara found herself staring at the man; she felt she knew him from somewhere. His returned glances seemed to indicate recognition as well. Mara wondered where she could have met such a distinguished and powerful looking man.

"Lord Lytol," said G'raden. "I hope we haven't kept you waiting too long." He let loose of Cally to extend his hand as they drew close enough.

"Wingleader G'raden. Not at all. I was anxious to meet the lovely lady you brought with you this day." Lytol affected a slight, but sincere smile toward Mara as he firmly shook and held G'raden's hand.

"Ahh," said G'raden as he shifted his arm to free Mara's. "Lord Lytol, may I introduce Brown Rider Mara, rider of Klamath, of Benden Weyr."

Lytol took Mara's hand in both of his. "This is truly an honor, Brown Rider Mara. I hope you will indulge me with some answers to a great many questions."

Mara noticed a twitch in his cheek as he said 'brown rider'; this didn't surprise her as she, like most dragonriders, had heard about Lytol losing his brown Larth in a training accident. She also felt even stronger that she knew this man from somewhere; his smile, though quite reserved, warmed her with its familiarity. She belatedly answered his greeting. "I would be honored to answer any questions, Lord Lytol. I've heard so much about you, sir." She wanted to say more, but couldn't find the words.

"Please, join us in Robinton's Hall. Wansor and D'ram will be excited to meet you as well. And I believe you've already met Oldive." He walked at her other side to the Hall, repeatedly glancing in her direction. "Is this your first experience with 'timing it'?"

Mara heard humor in his thoughts, and remembrance of times long gone. "No. I've timed it before, but only back a very short period of time. This . . ." she flicked her fingers before her eyes, "is all new."

Lytol chuckled briefly. "It can be disconcerting."

Bronze rider D'ram met the foursome on the large open porch with a firm dragonrider's arm shake to each of the visiting riders, a little less firm with Cally, but with several teasing winks. Cally's giggles set his mouth twitching. His brows also twitched, each time he looked at the brown rider.

"Is that little Cally out there? What's all the commotion?" Master Starsmith Wansor held Masterhealer Oldive's elbow as they both walked onto the porch. "Has that big bronze rider, G'raden, arrived yet?"

G'raden chuckled. "I'm right here, Master Wansor." When Wansor held out his hand, G'raden grasped it and nodded to Oldive. "Good day, Master Oldive."

Oldive merely nodded with a smile, letting Wansor express his excitement over having new visitors.

"And who is this standing next to you, lad?" He had been studying Mara with his glazed eyes. In the bright outdoor light, he could barely distinguish shapes, but absolutely no detail. "He's big, like you. Is this one of your dragonrider friends?"

G'raden, and everyone else, chuckled. "She isn't as big as me! But she is definitely a very good friend, and more. Master Wansor, may I introduce Brown Rider Mara, rider of Klamath, and my precious weyrmate."

Wansor's face lit up at the mention of Mara's position, and his jaw dropped at the word 'weyrmate'. He turned a mock accusing face back to G'raden. "Oh, you silly man! You've told me about the Lady Brown Rider, and you've told me about your lovely weyrmate, but you never told me your weyrmate was the Lady Brown Rider!"

"Consider this, my dear Wansor," said Oldive. "How do you suppose this bronze rider would know so much about Pern's Lady Brown Rider? Hmm?"

Wansor sputtered a bit, and even blushed a bit, but finally extended his hand to Mara. "This is quite embarrassing, Lady Mara." As he shook her hand with both of his, he beamed enthusiasm. "Oh, what a pleasure to finally meet you!" Still holding her hand, he turned toward a table sitting further down the porch. "I believe our good friends are going to bring us some drinks. Shall we all sit down?"

"I'm sure they'll want to change out of those wherhide clothes, Wansor. You sit while I show them to their room." D'ram ushered the visiting riders to one of the guest rooms to change.

G'raden and Mara changed quickly into their lightweight outfits, and at G'raden's suggestion, left their carisaks on one of the two small beds.

When they returned to the porch, poor Wansor was suffering a bit of teasing for not making the connections that D'ram and Lytol had from conversations with G'raden. He took it in good stride, though, and motioned for Mara to sit next to him as compensation for the others' 'ruthless' teasing.

Wansor was allowed to dominate the conversation with his fairly typical, and sometimes tactless, questions of a female brown rider. Lytol and D'ram were quite impressed with Mara's straightforward, though sometimes accompanied with a blush, answers to the old smith's seemingly endless questions. Oldive chuckled quite a bit and occasionally jabbed Wansor in the ribs for his lack of tact.

After just a few questions, Mara's head began to clear. There was some joking about how much better she felt after falling asleep. Wansor was lost until Mara explained about having 'timed it', and how she must be asleep at Benden Weyr now.

When Wansor ran out of questions for Pern's Lady Brown Rider, D'ram asked a few, and then the discussion moved on to their purpose in Landing this day. This eventually led to Mara's punishments, and the reasons and causes. Wansor was shocked at the severity of her punishment, Lytol seemed amused, D'ram gave no indication of his reaction, and Oldive, knowing Mara longer than the others, actually laughed.

Eventually, to Mara's relief, they came to G'raden's plans for his scheduled time with Aivas. G'raden fought to keep his excitement in check among such distinguished company; he was truly excited about his research into Earth's governments. Mara had to bite her lip many times at the gleam in his eyes.

Lytol and G'raden had a brief discussion on the pros and cons of the democratic form of government and wound up listing historical proofs of the inherent problems associated with Earth democracies.

Cally excused herself at this point, declaring that her interests were in medical history, and returned to the beach.

Mara listened intently as each of the men at the table provided possible remedies to problems that had plagued democracies on Earth.

When the conversation lulled, Lytol turned his attention to Mara. "Are you at all interested in history?"

"In as much as it can help with decisions about the future, yes, sir."

"Any interest in your personal family history?" asked Oldive in a contriving manner.

"I would like to know my mother's name, and who her family was, or is."

"How will that help with future decisions?" asked Lytol.

"It most likely won't, but it would be nice to know."

"Knowledge for the sake of knowledge?" asked D'ram.

"Perhaps. And . . . maybe . . . there's some family who might . . . want to know about me? I'd certainly like to know about them!"

"Breanna," Lytol caught one of the drudges as she passed. "Will you please bring out that weaving we were discussing earlier?"

After a quick glance at Mara, the well tanned, middle aged woman said with a barely suppressed snicker, "Of course!" and walked quickly into the Hall.

"What do you know of your mother's family?" asked Lytol.

Mara harrumphed. "Nothing. I always called her Mama, and my sire refused to talk about her after she died. She sold scented things at the markets, and liked to sing. She particularly liked a song about a . . . red fort?"

Lytol smiled, his eyes misting. "The Ballad of Red's Ford, perhaps?"

"That's possible. I'd have to hear it again to be sure."

"What was your sire's name?"

"Marlin."

"Hmm." Lytol shook his head. He brightened when Breanna caught his attention from the doorway, stood, and walked to meet her. "Will you help me with this?"

D'ram joined them, motioning for the drudge to move to the table. "She's not tall enough."

Lytol handed him a corner of the carefully rolled weaving, they each lifted their corners, and Lytol let the roll fall.

G'raden and Mara both gasped in surprise while Oldive and Breanna watched their reactions. The weaving was a beautiful, lifelike rendering of a robust woman with long, very wavy, auburn hair. Her wide, bright smile and glittering hazel eyes radiated love, joy, and happiness.

Except for the long hair, Mara thought she might be looking at polished metal. There were minor differences, but the woman could easily be Mara's twin sister. Mara looked for the telltale tradesman's mark in the bottom corner; it was the same as what graced G'raden's Lytol weavings.

"You made that?" She looked at the older man's sadly smiling, nodding face. "When?"

"Over forty turns ago."

Mara stammered, lips moving, but no words forming. She looked at the woman on the weaving and she looked into the laughing, but nearly weeping eyes of Lytol. "Who is she?"

"She was my wife . . . for almost twenty turns."

"Papa?" The brown rider was surprised, as the name seemed to come unbidden from deep inside some long lost memory.

Stoic, distinguished, Lord Lytol laughed even as tears fell from his eyes. "That's what you called me thirty some turns ago." He handed his corner of the weaving to D'ram and walked toward the table.

Mara, tears flowing freely, stood and walked to meet him. She placed a hand tenderly on his scarred cheek, briefly shocked that the size of her hand didn't match her memory, and then leaned forward to kiss the same cheek, allowing him to pull her into a hug. After a few moments, and a grunt from D'ram, she said teasingly, "You're shorter than I remember."

Lytol nearly lost his legs when near hysterical laughter burst forth. He allowed her to support him until the fit passed, and then pushed back enough to see her face. "You have your grandmother's sense of humor, little girl."

Now Mara laughed; she couldn't remember ever being called a little girl, but it seemed fitting from this man, her mother's sire. "Was she tall, like me?"

"Oh, yes, she was. Tall and beautiful!" He ran his hands down her arms, squeezing gently. "But she hid her muscle better than you do."

They returned to the table, arms wrapped around each other, searching each other's faces. Once seated, Lytol told how Mara had been almost two turns old when his oldest daughter, Marilee, and her then husband, Marand, had fled High Reaches with his second daughter.

Mara was at first shocked and then well pleased that the man who sold her was not truly her sire.

Lytol went on to tell how his second daughter, Lyralee, had found her way to Southern Boll and met a young journeyman weaver. They started a family, with four grown and nearly grown children now, and after he achieved the status of Master Weaver, they moved north a ways and opened a clothware shop. Lytol had only learned of her survival a few turns ago, and was thrilled to share that he also had two great-grandchildren.

At one point, Lytol asked Breanna to bring him a large hide-bound notebook from a drawer in his press. He proudly, but sadly, showed Mara and then the remainder of his guests, harper drawn pictures of his family when all his daughters still lived with their parents.

Mara was surprised that the daughters, including her mother, were all fairly petite compared to their parents. Lytol explained that in his wife, Laralee's family, every other generation at least one of the daughters would grow to Mara's size; otherwise, they were fairly normal sized women.

At Mara's dismay that she could not carry on that family trait, Lytol informed her that she had a cousin who rivaled her size. That cousin was now a journeywoman beastcrafter, and dreamed of one day working with dragons. And she was the dam of Lytol's two beautiful great-grandchildren, a boy and a girl.

After further discussion, with sometimes helpful input from all at the table, it was decided that Mara and Klamath should take Lytol for a visit to the small Hold south of Fort, as soon as Mara was free to do so.

As the morning passed, D'ram sheepishly informed Lytol that he needed to take Tiroth hunting before he wasted away to lizard-size. Lytol queried Mara and G'raden about their dragon's stomachs, and it was determined that all three riders should feed their poor, malnourished beasts.

Breanna boldly informed D'ram that mid-day meal would be ready in about a candle-mark and that he had better not be late. He informed her, with a wink, that since she had not overseen its preparation, it would not be unthinkable to miss said meal. With a swat to her rump as she hurried back to the kitchen, he laughed at her defensive remarks about her ability to manage a simple meal.

At their rider's calls, Tiroth, Normond and Klamath landed close to the front of Robinton's Hall. D'ram commented on Klamath's size with an oath to the Great Faranth. He then informed the others that riding straps would not be necessary for the short straight flight to the feeding pasture. Shortly, two bronzes and a brown launched into the air and flew south and west.

Klamath interrupted Mara's pleasurable thoughts as they flew alongside the older bronze dragon. _Tiroth's rider suggests that you keep your mouth closed. He says there are some very large and unappetizing flying insects on the Southern Continent._

Mara grinned even wider. _Please ask Tiroth's rider how he acquired that information._

The retired bronze rider howled loud enough to be heard by both riders nearby.

Klamath relayed his message: _He says 'experience'._ After a thoughtful pause, he continued. _Do people eat insects?_

_Not willingly, my love._ Mara waved an arm at D'ram and then lowered her hand to cover her previously uncovered teeth.

D'ram waved back and then pointed to a pasture ahead.

The very large pasture, with trees creating a screened-off section at one end, held close to twenty young male herdbeasts. Tiroth glided into the small hidden section, Normond and then Klamath following closely. The dragons landing frightened the beasts out of the shade-giving trees, into the larger open portion of the field.

As dragons returned to the air, D'ram led G'raden and Mara through the trees, where all three spread out to thwart attempts by the beasts to regain their cover. Tiroth struck first, grabbing a fat bull from the pasture, and returning with his kill to a spot closer to the trees. Normond allowed Klamath to make the next catch, and swooped down quickly to catch his own healthy, fat beast. The dragons spread out with their respective kills near the trees, causing the remaining beasts to huddle at the far, open end near and in the small stream cutting through the pasture.

The riders met near the middle of the line of trees and sat in the shade. D'ram explained that nearby holders voluntarily kept this pasture full of excess young male beasts specifically for dragons visiting Cove Hold. D'ram spoke fondly of the people who made it quite clear they were not tithing; they merely enjoyed the sight of flying dragons, and with the excellent conditions on Southern, they could afford such luxuries. As they spoke, several holders appeared near the fence lines, with friendly waves to the riders, to observe their latest guests. D'ram waved back with motions indicating an invitation to join them in the shade.

A man on one side of the pasture lifted two fairly young children over the fence. The children, apparently accustomed to visiting with dragons and their riders, walked calmly, with only a few bounces, along the fence to the back side of the trees. They could soon be heard chattering as they passed through the trees to join the riders.

Another man, on the other side of the pasture, with a woman at his side, lifted another small child over the fence as an older boy climbed over. The older lad, of perhaps eight turns, took the hand of the smaller child, and both walked quite calmly along the fence line in the same manner as the other children.

D'ram welcomed each of them by name and introduced each to G'raden and Mara.

The oldest boy bowed deeply at Mara and stated with immense pleasure how honored he was to meet her as he shook her hand. He bowed as well for G'raden, but not as deeply, and then sat between them, where he could ask questions and still observe the three massive dragons.

The riders answered all the children's questions as best they could, the children's excitement often interrupting the answers with more questions. Only D'ram spoke as each of the dragons finished their first beast and one by one flew up high and then swooped down for a second beast to the 'ooo's and 'aaah's of the smallest children. The oldest boy, though wide-eyed and flushed with excitement, tried hard to appear practiced at watching dragons hunt.

Questions continued as the three dragons ate their second beasts. When feeding was finished, and the dragons content, or shamed into being content, D'ram, using well practiced hand signals, asked the adults if the children could ride the dragons. The adults agreeable, D'ram lined the children up as if for inspection.

"With no riding straps this day, we can only take one passenger on each dragon." He stood and spoke as if he were a weyrlingmaster. "Who is willing to wait for a later flight?" He studied the children, already knowing the answer.

The older boy stepped forward. "My sister's never flown on a dragon. I can wait for another day."

"Good man!" declared D'ram as he dropped to one knee to speak to the sister. "You've never flown on a dragon?"

The little girl, perhaps three turns, shook her head.

"Are you afraid of dragons?"

She bit her lower lip as her eyes darted toward the dragons. Wide eyes met the aged bronze rider's for a moment before she shook her head again, but only once to each side.

"Good!" said D'ram as he offered her a hand. He stood and turned her to face Mara. "A first ride should be on a smaller," he made a face at Mara, "dragon. Why don't you ask Mara if you may ride on brown Klamath?" He gently pushed the little girl in the brown rider's direction.

The sweet girl took a few steps and turned wide, hopeful eyes up to Mara. Barely audible, she asked, "May I ride on your dragon, please?"

Mara couldn't help but notice the pride on her brother's face. She dropped to one knee to answer. "Yes, you may, but we need to ask Klamath if he's willing."

_Of course, I'm willing._

The little girl's jaw dropped as she swiveled her head to look at the brown.

_I thought you would be, my generous love, but little people need to learn manners._

_Even that little?_

_The smaller, the better._

Mara led the girl to Klamath's head and introduced them. Klamath kindly moved his muzzle within reach of the little hand stretching out to pet.

"May I fly with you, Klamath?" asked the girl, mesmerized by his swirling blue and green eyes.

Klamath pulled in his muzzle in a human-recognized nod, just as Normond had taught him, and moved forward again for more petting.

_She will be a dragonrider one day._

_You think so, love?_

_I am certain. Her brother, too._

"Well," said Mara, "should we go flying?" She led the way to Klamath's side and demonstrated standing on his forearm before leaping to his neck.

Once settled, she reached down for the girl already on Klamath's arm. She wasn't quite tall enough to reach until her brother joined her and lifted. Mara pulled her up and sat her in front, explaining how to hold on to Klamath's neck ridge.

The girl thoughtfully thanked her big brother for his help as he backed away, smiling with pride and just a touch of envy.

_Tiroth says we will fly one wide circle around the field. He suggests we fly in formation, with him in the lead._

_Sounds good to me, my love._

_Is she ready?_

"Are you ready?" Mara wrapped her arms around the small body as the girl nodded.

_We're ready._

Tiroth launched first, with a screech from the child in D'ram's arms, followed by Normond, and then Klamath. Klamath's little passenger merely giggled as she was forced tighter against Mara.

The dragons, Tiroth in the lead and Normond and Klamath to either side, gained some altitude over the field and then lazily turned back toward the trees. They flew between the sets of adults at the fence lines, allowing children to wave at parents, and then made a slow, wide pass around the entire pasture. They all dropped gently to land near the trees again, passengers showing varying degrees of excitement or fear. Klamath's passenger asked for more.

Mara explained that Klamath's belly was full and they still had to fly back to Cove Hold, and the girl reluctantly acquiesced. When safely on the ground, and with her brother's gentle urging, she returned to Klamath's head and thanked him with sincerity. She then skipped back to her brother, who placed a proudly protective arm over her shoulders and turned her toward the waiting adults.

"Boy!" G'raden called. When the older boy turned back, he motioned him closer. "Your turn!"

The boy lit up. "Really?" He took a quick step forward, remembered his sister, and turned hopeful eyes to Mara. When Mara took the girl's hand, he ran, full speed to G'raden, tripping on the last step.

G'raden laughed as he caught the boy. Normond, head turned back, huffed as well. G'raden mounted and reached down. The boy stepped onto Normond's foreleg and reached as far as he could, but not far enough. Normond placed his muzzle behind the boy's legs, G'raden instructed him to have a seat, and Normond lifted him to within reach of his rider.

Once situated, Normond lifted into the sky with laughing rider and passenger. He flew the same course as before, except that at the far end, he flew a rather tight figure eight. The boy's squeals of delight at being sideways to the ground could be heard even in the pasture. His sister, bouncing next to Mara, squealed as well, perhaps in empathy, or perhaps in response to her brother's happy squeals.

When Normond landed, the boy slid gracelessly from his back and immediately ran and then walked more manly to the bronze's head. He bowed deeply and thanked Normond profusely for the wonderful flight.

Normond nodded and then poked the boy in the belly, inviting a petting, but receiving instead a big hug. Normond crooned understandingly as the boy reached his arms as far as he could around the end of his muzzle.

The boy then graciously thanked all the riders for their kindness before leading his sister back to their parents.

"Was he crying?" asked Mara when the boy was out of hearing distance.

D'ram sniffed and ran the back of his hand across his eyes. "With joy, every single time! He'll be a rider some day."

"And his sister, according to Klamath."

"Oh! So he's a search dragon as well?"

Mara blushed; she hadn't meant to flaunt. "I don't know, sir. We haven't spent much time with non-riders, but he told me they'll both be riders one day."

"You be sure to tell F'lar about this. And I'll get a real search dragon out here to confirm or refute Klamath's abilities."

"Ahh, as if we need more duties right now."

The old weyrleader just laughed at her. "We all do anything we can, like it or not."

"I didn't say we wouldn't like searching. We're just a little tired right now, and we've barely begun these night watches."

D'ram laughed again. "You'll grow accustomed to night watches, and then you'll have trouble returning to your normal routine."

"Ah well. At least we're learning something."

"Not to 'time it' without permission?"

"If the need arises again, we'll be far more careful about who sees us return."

"Ha! G'raden, you teach her well. We wouldn't want Lytol's 'little girl' lost _between times_."

"Yes, sir!" said G'raden with a chuckle.

"And stop 'sir'ing me, flame it all! I'm retired and sick and tired of all the 'yes sir's and 'no sir's!"

Mara and G'raden glanced at each other and both responded in unison. "Yes, sir!"

D'ram smacked each of them on the back as he walked toward Tiroth. "Let's get back to Cove Hold. I'm hungry!"

"Yes, sir!" they both responded.

D'ram growled as he mounted his big, but aging bronze. They all flew back to Cove Hold, all feeling pretty pleased with their hunting expedition.

Back at Cove Hold, riding straps were removed so that three satisfied dragons could nap in the mid day sun.

On the shaded, breezy porch of Robinton's Hall, four dragonriders, one dragonless Lord Holder, and two Masters (three if the Lord Holder were counted twice) enjoyed a light, but filling meal to jovial talk of the day's events thus far.

As the meal ended, G'raden checked the timepiece Lessa had loaned him and informed the group that, regrettably, he and Mara had business to attend to in Landing.

Being somewhat overwhelmed with pleasant emotion, Mara hugged everyone present. Lytol returned the hug and then gave her a slow kiss on the cheek and a caressing hand on her face. Wansor let out a whoop as he returned her hug, and Oldive grinned with moisture filled eyes. Cally bounced and promised they'd meet again real soon.

D'ram stood against the wall with arms crossed watching the touching farewells with ironic amusement. He didn't change position when Mara approached, and merely glared at the brown rider as if displeased.

Mara held out her hand. "It's been a pleasure speaking with you D'ram."

D'ram didn't move. "Did you learn anything this day?"

Mara did not retrieve her hand, but continued grinning. "Quite a bit . . . sir."

"Ha!" He reached out and grasped her arm, dragonrider style, and then pulled her into a quick hug with a slap on her back. He pushed her away just as quickly, but maintained his grip on her arm. "You take care of yourself, brown rider, and that big dragon, too."

"Yes, sir!"

G'raden broke up their staring match by flinging Mara's carisak at her.

As they walked toward their dragons, Mara noticed that G'raden carried only his riding straps. "Where's your carisak?"

"I left it in our room. We'll be back in few couple candle-marks."

Mara mock punched his arm. "And you let me make a fool of myself with all those goodbyes?"

G'raden grinned at her. "I mentioned that we'd be staying when we first arrived. Maybe you were still only half here."

They harnessed their dragons quickly, and were soon in the air. G'raden gave the appropriate hand signal, and they blinked into between.


	13. An Afternoon in Landing

In the time it took Mara to count slowly to three, they were over the sea facing Two-Faced Mountain. She was now even more appreciative of L'ret's demand that weyrlings visualize Landing's Two-Faced Mountain rather than any of the buildings; Landing had changed considerably since her last visit only a few months ago. The number of buildings had increased as excavation toward the mountain continued, and the line of cleanliness followed close behind the excavation line, providing more usable area for more permanent and temporary residents. The mountain itself did not change, except for the number and placement of gold, bronze, brown, blue and green specks sunning on its sides.

G'raden on Normond led the way to the designated dragon landing area closest to the Admin building and the Aivas facility. The riders did not remove riding straps, asking their dragons to sun rather than swim this afternoon. Both were quite agreeable to napping after hunting just a few candle-marks earlier.

"Where should we start?" asked G'raden as they watched Klamath and Normond fly toward the lava flow.

"I need to start in the Library. I hope they have a Thesaurus." Mara, with other weyrlings, had been to Landing quite a few times, but had never had the opportunity to explore. While some of the weyrlings had been on a rather extensive tour, Mara always seemed to miss out.

G'raden smiled mischievously. "I think they might." He offered his hand, which of course was accepted, and led the way. "Right over here."

He led the way to a medium sized building plainly marked 'Library'. This building was like all the buildings at Landing, looking like a tipped-over metal glass half buried in the ground with walls at either end. The building had two doors on this end, each close to opposing curved outside walls.

As they walked inside, Mara gasped in surprise. Rows and rows of shelving ran almost the entire length of the building. There were seating areas near the entrance, near the middle, and at the other end of the single long room. Each shelf held rows or stacks of hide bound books.

Between the two doors was a long table running parallel to the wall, closed off on three sides, with shelves accessible to the people sitting or standing nearest the wall. Two devices sat on the table, one at either end; 'computer terminals' was the term Mara was looking for.

A bit of muffled laughter turned Mara's attention to the people behind the table.

"First time in Landing's Library?" asked a smiling older woman.

"Yes, ma'am!" declared Mara. She looked again at the many rows of shelving. "It's huge!"

"This isn't half of what we have at Landing. There's another whole building full of medical references, and another for various other scientific subjects. And Printer Hall is recreating more of the Ancient's books every seven-day!"

Mara, with G'raden's kind support, regrettably turned down the woman's offer of a tour, declaring that her work had to take precedence.

G'raden showed her where to find multiple copies of the 'Thesaurus' and 'Dictionaries', and left her at one of the many tables to complete her work on the index. He then removed a book from his carisak, gave it to one of the people at the long table, and disappeared into the many rows of books.

When Mara finished her list of words, she strolled the building looking for G'raden. She found him leaning back against a shelf, head down, reading a book. She stood at the end of the aisle, just watching him for quite a few heartbeats before walking quietly to his side. She hated to disturb such deep concentration, but had heard Benden's junior weyrwomen arrive.

She was within an arm's reach when he finally noticed her presence. He looked shocked and actually blushed as he snapped the book closed in his big hands. Mara was surprised at his embarrassment, but couldn't resist teasing. "What book is that?"

G'raden moved toward the shelf before him and was about to put the book back in its place, but Mara stopped him. "It's a book of fiction," he said.

"What's fiction?" Now Mara was intrigued. He was trying to hide whatever this book contained. What happened to 'no secrets'?

G'raden held the book tightly, still blushing. "It's a made up story. It never really happened." He seemed apologetic, embarrassed at being caught.

Mara was a bit confused. Why would anyone be embarrassed about reading fiction? She had often made up stories for her brothers; it sometimes made reality easier to deal with. "But, why are you blushing?" She watched his face closely for any clues.

G'raden's eyes rolled. "It's called a romance novel."

Mara stared at him. He was reading someone's made up story about romance? Did that make the reality of their romance easier to deal with? "Let me see." She took the book from him, opened it and began reading. She had to turn away from him to keep his hands off the book.

G'raden went pale as he reached around her, trying to regain control. "Umm, the Ancients had some strange ideas about romance. Some of it is really strange, but some of it is rather interesting."

Mara had managed to open to a page detailing in florid prose, an intimate scene between a man and a woman. Her blush deepened as she reached the climax of the scene. She snapped the book closed, but didn't dare look at G'raden. "I wonder if we can borrow this book."

G'raden was flabbergasted. "I . . . umm . . . don't think that's such a good idea." He reached around her one more time.

Mara walked away, a little wobbly, the book held close to her chest. "I'm going to find out."

"But . . ."

"I want to read more of this, but . . . not here."

"But . . ."

Mara grinned. She loved taking her weyrmate by surprise. When she heard him finally start moving, she hurried to the front table. As she placed the book on the high table, she heard him groan behind her and then turn and walk away.

"Is this a book I can borrow?" she asked the kind older woman.

The woman looked at the title and smiled even wider. "It most certainly is. And a very good book, too." She began pushing keys on one of the computer terminals. "What's your name, dear?"

Mara stated her name, and when asked, where she lived.

The woman's eyebrows rose when she recognized the name, but she didn't comment. "Lots of wonderful ideas in this book. You'll enjoy it." Now she blushed as she handed the book to Mara. "I did!"

Mara thanked the woman as she carefully placed the book just so in her carisak. She turned around and found G'raden standing at the nearest bookshelf, running his fingers over the bindings as if reading the titles of the multiple dictionaries and other reference books. She walked up close behind him and put her hands on his belt. When he jumped, she grinned. "Ready to go? The weyrwomen have arrived."

G'raden grumbled something incoherent as he turned toward the exit. He reluctantly let his weyrmate slip under his arm and kept his eyes on the door as they approached. He moaned and rolled his eyes as Mara again thanked and waved at the woman behind the counter.

"Why are you so embarrassed, G'raden?" asked Mara innocently as the door closed behind them.

"We'll talk about it later."

"Uhh huh." Mara grinned at her lover. He obviously didn't want to talk about this at all.

Mara's teasing stopped as they met the Weyr's junior weyrwomen outside the Aivas facility. Lenarra led them into the building and introduced Mara to each of the people they met. She made a special point of introducing the current administrative staff and of handing the senior administrator a letter from Lessa requesting that Mara be added to the list of Benden Weyr's staff with full access to all of Benden Weyr's information.

Mara was surprised by the letter, and as they waited for their time with an Aivas terminal, she asked Lenarra about it. Wasn't all Weyr information available to anyone who wanted it?

Lenarra scoffed. "Oh, no! F'lar and Lessa, and quite a few weyrleaders before them, keep track of everything! Rider's personal history, family problems, discipline problems, health problems, anything that might affect a rider's, or any other weyr personnel's, job performance. None of that goes into the official Records. According to F'lar, most weyrleaders have a whole separate locked room for such information, most definitely not available to the public."

"And Lessa has given me access to that information? Why?"

"Perhaps in case she needs you to research something. But, you'd be wise to not use that access without her, or F'lar's, prior permission."

"Understood!"

Further questions were interrupted when the small group was informed it was their turn to use Aivas. They were led to a small room with several chairs and one computer terminal. A glass plate seemed to be imbedded in the table next to the terminal.

As Lenarra sat in front of the terminal, the screen displayed a message:

GOOD AFTERNOON, WEYRWOMAN LENARRA OF BENDEN WEYR.

"Good afternoon, Aivas. I've come to supply you with copies of our Records."

VERY WELL. PLEASE PLACE THE FIRST PAGE ON THE SCANNER. PRESS 'ENTER' WHEN THE PICTURE APPEARS SATISFACTORY.

"Thank you Aivas." Lenarra showed Mara how to place each page on the scanner, wait for Aivas to display a picture of the page, how to adjust the page if necessary, waiting again for Aivas' revised picture, and where the 'Enter' key was on the keyboard. She did this with each side of each page of the past seven days of Records, allowing Mara to do the last half.

When all the pages had been scanned, Lenarra asked Aivas to review the documents for readability. Aivas then displayed one of the pages with a scratched out word highlighted. Lenarra asked Aivas to remove that word. Other pages appeared with various words highlighted. Some were slightly misspelled and Aivas supplied suggestions. Lenarra chose the appropriate word and Aivas moved on. Some appeared to have been written by someone very tired or perhaps upset, with letters combined, or written inaccurately. Again, Aivas supplied suggestions and Lenarra chose the appropriate word or supplied yet another. Aivas then informed Lenarra of the page numbers these Records would be assigned and Lenarra wrote down the first number on the first page. The entire process took less than a quarter candle-mark.

When Records had been copied, Lenarra had Mara sit at the terminal. She introduced Mara to Aivas as she returned the Weyr's Records to her carisak, and informed the computer that Mara might be copying Records on occasion in the future.

GOOD AFTERNOON, BROWN RIDER MARA OF BENDEN WEYR. WELCOME TO THE AIVAS FACILITY.

"Thank you, Aivas, and good afternoon to you," said Mara.

Lenarra then informed Aivas that Mara and G'raden were authorized to use this terminal for Benden Weyr's remaining time, and promptly left 'to visit with the dolphins'.

HOW MAY I BE OF SERVICE TO YOU THIS DAY, BROWN RIDER MARA?

"Umm," Mara was a bit unnerved to find herself talking to a plastic box. "Lessa has asked me to compile an index of all of Benden Weyr's Records up to this date."

HAVE YOU COMPILED A LIST OF TOPICS?

"Yes, it's right here." She pulled the papers out of her carisak and held them up. She blushed slightly at her attempt to show the box her lists. "I've written down subjects and synonyms."

VERY WELL. PLEASE PLACE THE FIRST PAGE ON THE SCANNER. PRESS 'ENTER' WHEN THE PICTURE APPEARS SATISFACTORY.

Mara did as instructed, following the same procedure used on the Records. She went through the process of checking for readability and informed Aivas that she had been authorized to request two copies of the index.

VERY WELL. THIS MAY TAKE A FEW MINUTES. PLEASE FEEL FREE TO ACCESS OTHER INFORMATION WHILE THE INDEX IS COMPILED.

"Thank you, Aivas." She turned to G'raden. "Minutes?"

G'raden grinned. "A candle-mark is based on Ancient Earth's hour, which consists of sixty minutes. So fifteen minutes would be a quarter candle-mark."

"Ahh." Mara stood. "I guess it's your turn."

G'raden sat at the terminal and was promptly greeted by Aivas.

GOOD AFTERNOON, BRONZE RIDER G'RADEN. WELCOME BACK TO THE AIVAS FACILITY.

"Good afternoon, Aivas, and thank you."

HOW MAY I BE OF SERVICE TO YOU THIS DAY, BRONZE RIDER G'RADEN?

"I'd like to continue my research on Earth's democratic forms of government. Specifically, problems associated with democracy."

Mara sat in another chair and watched and listened to G'raden's conversation with Aivas. On occasion, G'raden would request Aivas 'make a note of that reference'.

After a few minutes, sheets of paper began emerging from a slot on the cabinet behind the terminal. Mara picked them up and smiled at the beautifully printed index Aivas had created. She carefully placed them in her carisak and focused again on the conversation about democracy and how Earth governments had dealt with the inherent problems.

All too soon, in Mara's opinion, Aivas displayed the following message:

YOUR TIME HAS NEARLY ELAPSED. BROWN RIDER MARA?

"Yes, Aivas."

WAS THE INDEX SATISFACTORY?

"Yes, thank you!"

IN THE FUTURE, YOU MAY WISH TO ASSIGN SPECIFIC TOPICS TO VARIOUS SECTIONS OF THE RECORDS WHICH MAY NOT USE THE WORDS YOU HAVE ALREADY SPECIFIED.

"That's good to know, Aivas. I'll be reading all the Records at the Weyr this month, so will make note of any such occurrences. Thank you!"

GOOD DAY TO BOTH OF YOU.

With that, G'raden took a paper Aivas had printed, and led the way out of the room.

"What's that?" asked Mara.

G'raden handed it to her. "It's a list of the references Aivas made. Now, I can do more research in the Library." He took back the list. "But not this day. I'd like to show you the shopping areas."

"Shopping! What do we need to shop for?"

"You'll see."

Before they left the building, G'raden stopped to schedule more time with Aivas. With Mara's new, temporary sleeping schedule, he would be able to visit Aivas at times when most of Pern was sleeping, or preparing to sleep. As they left, he told Mara that Landing's Library was also open all day and all night to accommodate visitors from all over Pern, so he would also be able to do his research during the evenings.

They talked about that research and the meetings he had been asked to attend with the government students here at Landing as he led the way to a large block of small buildings. G'raden made light of the fact that Lord Lytol himself had asked for G'raden's input on the future of Pern after Thread and the more immediate experiments being conducted at Southern Hold since Toric had been removed as Lord Holder.

Mara was extremely impressed with her weyrmate's modesty, and was quite excited about one day accompanying him to some of those meetings. And now she had even more reason to visit Landing and Cove Hold. She lost track of the conversation for a short time as she thought about her newly discovered grandfather.

"Mara?" G'raden stood in front of her, studying her slight smile and unfocused eyes. When her eyes focused on his lips, he smiled. "We're here."

Mara blushed at her inattentiveness. "Where?"

The big man stepped aside with a flourish, allowing her to see Landing's largest shopping block.

Mara gaped at the colorful scene before them. The buildings lining the outside of the block were the same as most in Landing, but with brightly colored paint and bright fabrics stretched out in front of each building to provide shade for the many shoppers. It was a permanent Gather site, thought Mara, with eating and drinking establishments, and small and large shops of all kinds; there were books, baked goods, fruits, hide work, fabrics, jewelry and clothing, candles and bathing sands and who knew how many other things, all in one place, all turn long! People sat at tables under the shade cloths eating or talking, or roamed the many shops, some with armloads of purchases. Some even pulled small carts behind them.

"Where shall we start?" asked the grinning bronze rider.

"Umm," she glanced around the area for inspiration. "Right here? Do you think we can see it all this day?"

G'raden laughed. "If we don't dawdle, sure." He held out his hand and led his excited weyrmate quickly to the first building on their left.

The first building housed a fruit vendor. G'raden purchased two full thermoses of a sweet but tart thirst-quenching juice. The vendor explained that he would repurchase the thermoses if they returned them, or that they could be cleaned with a wet cloth and reused for hot or cold beverages, but, he warned, they were quite fragile, so care should be taken in their handling.

Mara started asking questions about how they were made, but G'raden reminded her that they had quite a few more shops to visit.

Each shop held some fascination for one or the other of the riders. They stopped at a hide-work shop and G'raden again reminded Mara of their goal as she asked questions about the dyes the vendor used. A 'toiletries' shop caught both their interests, as neither were familiar with the word painted on the building. G'raden, to Mara's relief, wasn't the least bit uncomfortable sniffing the various bathing sands, perfumes, and candles. He made careful mental notes about which scents she seemed to prefer, for future reference.

A jewelry shop earned a significant amount of their time, each of them admiring the Master Smith's sometimes elaborate and sometimes very simple, but beautiful creations. Using fairly common stones, he had created works of art embellished with either tiny metal rings linked together, or simple hide cords. Some works were obviously more suited for use by women, some were designed exclusively for men, and some could easily be worn by either gender.

G'raden blushed slightly when Mara asked him to hold a corded necklace to his neck. She stood back and marveled at how the multi-tone striped center stone flanked with two nearly translucent, but very dark brown stones accentuated his beautiful brown eyes.

"I've never in my life worn jewelry!" declared the big man.

"You should, G'raden. It makes you even more handsome." Mara laughed as his blush deepened and he handed the necklace back to the Smith.

"You try this one." G'raden selected a finely worked gold chain with multiple translucent blue and green stones both worked in and dangling from the chain.

Mara held it to her neck, figuring she owed him this much. Her humorous smile changed to one of surprise when he seemed transfixed by what he saw.

"It brings out the blues and greens of your eyes, my love." He shook his head trying to shift his focus. "You should wear jewelry, Mara! It's beautiful!"

"Ahh, dragonriders don't wear jewelry, do they?" She handed the lovely necklace back to the Smith with heartfelt thanks. She was a dragonrider, after all, and had been a dock worker and drudge before that; what right did she have to even think about wearing jewelry?

They both thanked the Master Smith, whose eyes were gleaming with amusement laced with something else, complimented him on his beautiful collection, and moved on to the next shop.

They spent a few minutes at several more shops, G'raden laughing a bit harder each time he had to interrupt Mara's questions of the vendors.

When they reached a fabric shop, he gave up. Mara was enthralled with a rug the merchant's wife was working on. She was quickly invited further into the shop to view the technique up close. Mara pulled G'raden along, commenting on how nice a rug like this would feel on the cold rock floor of their weyr. G'raden had been nearly forced to agree, but as he handled the finished portion of the loom braided work-in-progress, he very quickly did agree.

Seeing an opportunity to do some personal shopping, the bronze rider pressed a ten-mark piece into the brown rider's hand. She accepted with only token argument over using his marks. He was easily able to convince her that his marks should be used to embellish their weyr until the time came when she had more marks than he did. He left the shop only slightly nervous about leaving color choices up to his weyrmate, having no idea where her tastes might run. He did sincerely hope, though, that she had been teasing about the gaudy orange and yellow fabric she had pointed out. It didn't matter, he told himself; he could always ignore the color, if the rug made her happy, and made her feel a more permanent part of his life.

Checking that Mara was again concentrating on the woman's technique, G'raden grinned and walked quickly back to the Master Smith's shop. Afterwards, he would return to the 'toiletries' shop. His beautiful brown rider deserved only the best of the best he could offer.

After nearly a candle-mark of working on the technique of braiding a rug on a loom, and purchasing a loom and enough fabric to make a rug of her own, Mara found it suddenly imperative to find the nearest necessary. Leaving her purchases, and her carisak, at the shop, she walked between the buildings toward the necessaries set up behind.

As someone, two someones actually, grabbed her arms from behind, Mara cursed her inattentiveness. F'nor would use her hide for the soles of his boots if he learned of this.

She set her hands firmly at the juncture of legs and torso, effectively turning her arms to stone, bent her knees to lower her center of gravity, and heaved the men backwards into the fabric merchant's building.

The move only served to tighten their grips on her arms as a third person, a young man barely old enough to be called a man, walked calmly in front of her.

_Mara?_

_It's all right, Klamath. I'm fine._

"Give me your marks," said the far too confident little man.

"No," responded Mara just as confidently.

The young man reached up and slapped the non-uniformed dragonrider quite sharply.

Mara felt Klamath launch from the lava flow he had been enjoying.

The young man had enough intelligence to back away when she merely looked disgustedly at him; her head had barely moved from the slap. When she had the audacity to smile, he drew a knife. This big ugly lady holder could stand to show a bit of respect, he thought. He was too cocky to notice the looks of fear on his buddies' faces as they held her extremely muscular and quickly hardening arms. He waved the knife before him as he moved forward. "Give me your marks, woman!"

_Stay away, Klamath!_

Mara grinned at the young man; he obviously had no real training in the handling of weapons. He was one of those fools who thought that fear could earn him respect. Well, it was time he learned the difference. She spoke as if to a child. "Oh, little man. I said 'no', and I meant it."

Furious at her insulting tone, he lunged, aiming for her gut.

Mara lunged to the side, pushing one of her holders, and pulling the other as Klamath roared from overhead.

The knife struck with vengeance hard enough to hit the metal wall behind. The large, but skinny man she had pulled with her let out a pain-filled groan as he released his grip and slumped back against the curved metal wall. The knife had pierced his heart.

As the young man before her appeared shocked at the turn of events, Mara used her free hand to firmly grip the far arm of her second holder. As the knife was pulled slowly from the now dead body next to her, she twisted, pulling her holder around and into the armed man. Her holder, caught unawares by his own shock, flew backwards into the armed man and both fell toward the ground, the knife barely out of the dead body.

Mara followed her holder, letting loose of his arm and grabbing the wrist holding the knife. The three of them hit the ground with bone shattering force as Klamath roared again, unable to get close enough to protect his rider.

The knife fell from the now broken wrist, and Mara moved to straddle her two remaining would be robbers, fists poised to inflict further damage if necessary. Voices from behind, whimpering from below, and draconic bellowing from somewhere in front, eased her enflamed temper somewhat until someone gently gripped her raised arm.

"It's over, Lady. We'll handle this matter from here." A calm, tenor, harper-trained voice served to further calm this obviously self-sufficient woman.

Mara opened her hand, indicating her 'surrender' to the man holding her arm.

Harper Colin continued holding on as the woman began to shake, probably from unused adrenaline, he thought. He carefully helped this very muscular, very large woman to her feet, as two other men drug the attackers to their feet. On seeing her wide, wild, threatening eyes, he fought to maintain his calming demeanor. He gently guided her to the wall of the building, let her lean against it, and watched as she regained her own control. "It's over now, my Lady." He found it quite unnerving when she locked her eyes on his, but returned her glare with equal firmness. "It's over. Have you been injured, Lady?"

Mara snorted, and tried to smile, but gave it up when she realized she was frightening the kind Harper. "I'm not injured, Harper, but . . ." She looked at the young man slumped on the ground nearby, and nearly cried.

Only now did Colin realize that a very large brown dragon was trying unsuccessfully to squeeze between the buildings.

_It's all right, my love. I'm not injured, and the danger is gone._

"Mara?" a loud bellow from the other end of the tight alley quieted the gathering bystanders, but didn't slow their movement from the back of the buildings toward the interior of the block.

"G'raden? Over here!" Mara raised an arm into the air, waving above the crowd.

"A dragonrider?" asked the harper.

"Yes, sir. Mara, rider of Brown Klamath." She held out her hand offering a formal greeting.

The harper's jaw dropped. Shock was quickly replaced with amusement as he returned her handshake. He had been referring to the contracted name she had called, and had not made the connection with her own name. "That explains a great deal, Brown Rider Mara! I am Journeyman Harper Colin, currently serving Landing to my best, but limited ability. I am truly honored to meet you!"

"I'm not sure why, Harper Colin. I've made a bit of a mess here."

G'raden emerged from the crowd and stopped at the sight of one man down and two more physically restrained so close to his lovely weyrmate. His jaw dropped before he finally managed to smile somewhat. He held out his arms invitingly. "Are you all right?"

Mara took a step away from the Harper and melted into her weyrmate's arms, nearly choking him with a fierce, but shaky grip around his neck. "I'm fine. I need to calm Klamath though, before he hurts himself." She let loose as he reluctantly did the same.

Arms around each other's waists, they started out of the alley, toward a highly agitated brown dragon.

The harper held out an arm, a symbolic gesture asking them to stop. "I need to ask you some questions, please."

"Come with us, Harper Colin. I need to calm Klamath before there's even more damage to deal with."

As they made the short walk to the exterior of the shopping block, Mara introduced Harper Colin to her weyrmate. As they approached the marked 'necessary', Mara grimaced, and then looked at the big brown head leaning over the small building.

"Klamath, love, I really need to use this building." She spoke out loud for the benefit of the two men at her sides.

_You are unhurt?_

"I'm unhurt, my love." She danced a jittery little circular jig to prove her point. "Just a little shaky . . . and bloated."

Two breathy huffs caused the young harper to duck. G'raden laughed as Mara disappeared into the necessary, the large brown head lifting and then lowering to keep anyone else from entering the building.

After finishing her personal business, Mara left the little building and found a third person, an apprentice harper practicing an ancient writing technique called 'shorthand', standing with G'raden and Harper Colin.

Colin questioned Mara as she patted, rubbed, and generally soothed Klamath. He and his apprentice were both thrilled to be allowed to touch and rub brown Klamath when the interview was complete.

As the harpers left, G'raden turned concerned eyes to Mara. "Are you ready to go back to Cove Hold? Or would you like to do more shopping?"

"I don't know about shopping, but I sure am hungry." Mara grinned apologetically.

"Oh, good!" G'raden took her hand and turned her toward the shopping area. "The baker has a new creation he learned about from Aivas. It really looks good, but I wanted you to try some too."

"What is it?"

"He called it 'peetsa'."

Mara convinced Klamath that he could safely return to the lava flow, and weyrmates walked hand in hand back into the shopping block.

The cloth merchant met them just outside his shop. He had wrapped Mara's purchases in a length of the gaudy orange and yellow fabric that had caused G'raden to wince earlier. With a wink he handed it to her.

"There's more in here than what I purchased, sir!"

"Yes, Lady Mara. I've included a bit of a surprise. Those three troublemakers have been robbing lone women in our alleys for months. It's very bad for business, you know. Please accept my small token of appreciation."

"Thank you, sir! And when I finish this one, I'll come back for some of that bronze fabric! Good day, sir."

The Benden riders continued on to the baker's shop and were greeted warmly. The merchant served them each with small peetsas and tall mugs of ale, and soundly refused to accept G'raden's marks, declaring that business would now pick up again, thanks to his lovely partner.

Both riders marveled at the peetsas. Slightly larger in diameter than a large man's hand length, the base was a lightly herbed bread, with an herbed vegetable sauce and spiced meats and several variations of cheese piled on top, all baked to perfection. What first appeared to be a bit more than a snack filled both riders quite nicely.

When Mara asked how the peetsas were made, the merchant turned evasive. He did give her hints on making the bread, but declared that the sauce was a secret. He offered to give her some if she would share it with friends and tell them where she had obtained it. Mara was more than agreeable and was soon in possession of a large glass jar of peetsa sauce. Both riders thanked the baker with sincerity before leaving to return to Cove Hold.

The riders walked back to the Admin area, both knowing better than to fly between too soon after such a satisfying meal.

Still feeling quite full, they returned to the Library and allowed the kind woman they met earlier to give them a full tour. Mara was fascinated with the concept of 'fiction', but refused to borrow any more books than the one she already had until after her month in Records and on watch duty. G'raden, however, was able to borrow several of the books on Aivas' reference list.

After repacking all they had acquired this day in their carisaks, they summoned their dragons and returned to Cove Hold.

Mara allowed G'raden and Normond to visualize Cove Hold, as she was beginning to feel disoriented again; they must have returned to Benden Weyr.

At Cove Hold, in Robinton's Hall, they were both questioned about the day's events. D'ram seemed particularly interested in the attempted robbery, while Lytol was interested in the books G'raden had borrowed and Wansor seemed quite fascinated with the peetsas. Breanna offered to put Mara's peetsa sauce in the cold room until they left. But, when G'raden suggested that maybe the sauce would taste good on bread, Breanna quickly brought out small plates and sliced bread for all to sample. The peetsa sauce was a hit at Robinton's Hall, and Mara ended up giving Breanna half of what was left.

The riders retired to one of the guest rooms for a nap; they had already had a very long day, and it was only half over in Benden Weyr. The guest room contained two fairly narrow beds, seldom being used by couples. Breanna had been rather apologetic, but the riders assured her that they would be fine. When Mara tried to sleep, though, she kept seeing the young man who had died this day. G'raden rolled back against the wall on his bed and invited her to join him. Curled up against her loving weyrmate, Mara fell asleep quickly, followed shortly by G'raden.

They slept soundly for about three candle-marks, and then both woke to a slight ruckus in the main room of the Hall.

On leaving the guest room, they found Lytol, D'ram and Wansor sitting at a small table playing cards. Mara wondered how a blind man could possibly play cards, so walked closer to the trio.

"Now you've done it Wansor." D'ram sounded almost angry. "You woke up our guests." But he smiled and winked at Mara and G'raden.

"They wouldn't be awake if you two didn't constantly cheat!" declared Wansor.

"We don't cheat!" declared Lytol with a smile.

"Yes, you do!" Wansor turned toward the approaching riders and held up his hand of cards. "Tell me, young lady, can you see the indentations on the backs of these cards?"

Mara studied the backs of the cards as D'ram dramatically leaned to study the fronts. "Umm, no, sir. I don't see any indentations."

Wansor turned to his other side and showed the cards to G'raden. "Do you see any indentations?"

G'raden, grinning, and nearly choking trying to hold back his laughter, studied the backs of the cards as Lytol, also grinning, leaned to study the fronts. G'raden cleared his throat before answering. "No, Master. I don't see any indentations."

Wansor slapped the cards onto the table, face up, and fumed. "I know they're cheating! But how? Shards!" He picked up his hand and held the cards in one hand while feeling their faces with the other. "Let's finish this round!"

First D'ram, then Lytol, and then the visiting riders, all broke out into uncontrollable laughter. Mara, feeling sorry for the red-faced man, leaned next to him and explained what had just happened.

Wansor slapped his cards down again, and huffed in a way that reminded Mara of Klamath, and G'raden of Normond. "Using the art of distraction against a blind man, IS CHEATING!" Wansor spoke like a teacher until the last two words.

D'ram harrumphed. "It is not cheating!"

Lytol cleared his throat. "It is using what we have to gain an advantage over an extremely intelligent player."

"Extremely intelligent, my arse! It's cheating!"

"But, have you learned anything this evening, Master?" asked Mara.

"I have indeed, my dear. I will never play for marks with these two TUNNEL SNAKES!" He pushed his cards across the table. "Deal again, you . . ." He turned blind eyes to Mara and then G'raden. "Sit down and join us Mara, G'raden, please."

The Benden riders sat, G'raden pulling out the timepiece Lessa had loaned him.

Mara's concentration was so scattered, she declined being included in more than the first round, and tried to focus on poor Wansor's need to face anyone talking to him.

The men played a few more rounds with Mara reminding Wansor to protect his cards during repeated visits from the kitchen staff offering more refreshments. Wansor finally caught on to how the distractions had been so efficient, and began holding his cards to his chest each time anyone spoke to him. D'ram and Lytol weren't happy about this new tendency, but took it in good stride, claiming they would now have to find some new method of defeating the Master of Cards. Wansor teased back, claiming that if they would only concentrate on the cards, they might have a better chance of winning . . . occasionally.

G'raden hated ending this enjoyable evening, but Mara's training in the consequences of timing was on a schedule to avoid further complications during her other duties. Everyone stood when he announced they would have to leave soon. The Benden riders went to the guest room and returned dressed for dragon riding, carisaks in hand.

D'ram shook hands with both riders. To Mara, he said, "You did well this day, rider."

"Thank you, sir."

The old bronze rider then turned toward the kitchen. "Breanna! Where's that peetsa sauce?"

"Oh, shards," was heard from that direction.

"I'll get it." D'ram's eyebrows fluttered up and down before he marched loudly to the kitchen.

Laughter and giggling could be heard from the kitchen, and everyone in the main room seemed to blush to some degree. All found some other direction to face when D'ram returned slightly red-faced, but smiling.

"Got it," he declared, and then helped G'raden pack it into Mara's carisak, wrapped in both sets of light weight clothing.

Wansor shook G'raden's hand and pulled Mara into a quick, friendly hug, sneaking in a kiss to her cheek. He didn't say anything, appearing rather choked up.

Lytol walked them to the porch. When he stopped and turned, his eyes were moist, but his speech was clear and steady. "I'm glad we found each other, Mara."

"Me too . . . what should I call you? Lord, Lytol, or Papa?"

Lytol laughed. "I prefer Papa from you, my dear, but of course, in a more public setting . . ." He didn't finish, certain that she understood his meaning.

"Papa it is then, Papa." She wanted to say more, but her mind was all a jumble.

They shared a warm hug before Lytol pushed her away. "Go on Brown Rider! Let me know if your duties extend beyond a month. I'm sure your cousins will want to have a family gathering as soon as you're available." He pushed her gently toward the steps. "Go on, little girl. Make your Papa even prouder."

Mara stumbled slightly on the steps, her eyes full of joyful tears, but recovered quickly, and summoned Klamath. _Are you ready to go home, Klamath?_

_I am on my way._

Within heartbeats, the big brown landed in front of Robinton's Hall, closely followed by Normond.

Lytol embraced G'raden's arm in the standard dragonrider fashion. "See you in a few days?"

"Yes, sir." G'raden nodded with a big smile. "And I should even have a few comments to throw out." He lifted his carisak, indicating the books he had borrowed.

"You take good care of her, G'raden. If she's anything like her grandmother . . ." Lytol uncharacteristically choked up.

"She's already the most precious person in my life, sir."

"Good." Lytol nodded. "Safe skies, Wingleader."

"Thank you, sir."

G'raden soon joined Mara and watched carefully as she methodically checked Klamath's riding straps.

Mara was meticulous in this task, as she had already allowed inattention to cause problems once this day, and did not intend to allow another such occurrence.

After Mara was mounted and strapped on, G'raden checked Normond's straps, mounted, and after both riders waved at the people on the porch of Robinton's Hall, gave the signal to take to the air. When they had gained sufficient altitude and G'raden was certain that Klamath had the proper visualization, he gave the signal to go between.


	14. A Very Long Day

Sorry for the delay - no acceptable excuses. Pern still belongs to Anne and Todd McCaffrey, except in my imagination.

* * *

The longer than normal time _between_ was even more uncomfortable for Mara this time, possibly because she knew what it meant. Appearing over Benden Weyr with the sun high in the sky caused a bit of nausea.

_Are you all right, Mara?_

_I'm fine, my love. Just really glad to be home._

_But, your stomach . . ._

_I don't think I'm suited to long periods of timing it, Klamath. I'll be fine when this day is over._

_Should we land near the Healer's cavern?_

_I'll be fine, love. I'm already feeling better._

Klamath didn't say any more, but Mara could feel her concerned dragon concentrating on her physical state. She couldn't help smiling at his loving concern. She was equally relieved that he seemed to suffer none of the problems she was experiencing.

Normond landed on their weyr ledge first. G'raden slid off his back and the big bronze lumbered deeper into the weyr. Klamath landed next. G'raden helped his slightly wobbly weyrmate safely down, and they walked to the interior weyr. They unloaded their carisaks, except for the peetsa sauce and the index, G'raden barely able to avoid grimacing at Mara's orange and yellow wrapped package, and they each flew their dragons down to attend midday meal.

Manora and the head cook were fascinated with the peetsa sauce and questioned Mara extensively on the bit of information she had obtained from the baker in Landing.

Mara was finally allowed to collect her meal and join her friends. As she sat down, she became even more disoriented. Due to the pictures in her mind, she wondered if this wasn't when she was being attacked in Landing's shopping area.

G'raden kept an eye on her, but no one bothered her. G'regg and B'nor knew about the 'timing' experience Mara was being subjected to, and simply observed, knowing they would get more details later.

When Mara was able to start eating, she looked suspiciously at her cold herd beast sandwich, and then at G'raden. "Does your sandwich taste like peetsa?"

G'raden laughed. "And the water tastes like ale."

G'raden was prompted into a lengthy description of the peetsa they'd eaten at Landing. G'regg and B'nor and several other riders were fascinated at the prospect of a new taste sensation, and all sounded like they would be visiting the baker's shop in Landing very soon.

Mara wasn't able to eat much, still feeling a bit queasy, and still tasting peetsa and ale. As the meal ended though, she began feeling better. G'raden's grin indicated that he noticed the change.

G'raden walked Mara across the bowl to the Records Room. On the way, he told her that they were now napping in Landing.

"Why isn't this affecting you like it is me?" asked Mara.

"This day was planned to give you experience in 'timing' consequences. I've been lazy and unproductive this entire day at Benden Weyr, so I can concentrate better on the Southern Continent. Now that we're sleeping in Landing, you'll have an easier time, but when we wake up, you'll know. Though, not concentrating on the card game should make it easier here."

Mara just shook her head. How could anyone do this intentionally and repeatedly just to gain more time in a day?

Lessa met both riders in the Records Room and questioned both on the day's events thus far. She was quite relieved when Mara stated that she would never do this on her own; it was just too confusing and so very uncomfortable.

Mara did earn a laugh when she stated that now she understood her Wingleader a little better. Ten turns of this would make anyone a bit wherry-brained at times.

G'raden left the ladies to 'continue his non-productive duties', and reminded Mara that if she should find him sleeping prior to the evening meal, she should not wake him.

The first three candle-marks in Records went quite well. Mara read quite a few of Weyrwoman Torene's notes. Benden Weyr's first Weyrwoman had been meticulous in her note keeping, quite understandably, so after three candle-marks, Mara had only read a few Turns of Benden's history. She was able to add quite a few more notations to the index, though, as word usage had changed somewhat over the course of twenty-five hundred Turns.

F'lar joined her during the last candle-mark, arriving just about the time she was waking up in Landing. He too, asked about the day's events, and finally focused on the attempted robbery.

"So, how do you feel about that attack?" asked F'lar. Her report had been very matter-of-fact, exactly what he would expect from a well trained rider under his command.

Mara drew a long breath. How did she feel? She hadn't thought about it yet, wanting to get through the rest of this confusing day first. Tears welled up and she tried to avoid blinking, which of course would have released the tears. "I'm rather upset at myself for being so inattentive, sir."

"Inattentive?"

"If I'd been paying attention, and if I'd been wearing my knives, just showing those young men that I had some training in self-defense might have made them reconsider."

"Mmm." She obviously had not thought about this yet. "Or they may have chosen another victim." F'lar chuckled as her head snapped to face him, her eyes far more clear. "If you had shown your training, they may have simply chosen an easier target, someone who was truly defenseless, and perhaps someone just belligerent enough to refuse to give them her marks. Then what might have happened?"

"That little tunnel snake would have killed her!"

"Exactly." Her eyes darted somewhat; she was considering the possibilities now. "So, under the same circumstances, what might you have done differently?"

"Pay attention. Knives wouldn't have made a difference because it all happened so fast." She looked into his eyes. "They had to be stopped, to protect others." She paused, and then almost smiled. "I would let them attack, and take them down. If I had paid attention, I would have know there were only three of them, and probably would have detected their inexperience, and their foolish leader's misconceptions much earlier." She shook her head as she relived the incident. "I could have tried to kick his knife away, but he was too close, and his friends were shaking pretty bad, so I might have been thrown off balance." She locked her eyes on F'lar's again. "Could I have prevented that young man's death?"

"That young man chose to follow a fool who had no respect for other people's lives. It's unfortunate that his choice cost him his life, but the choice was his. You were merely present when the consequences of his choices played out. Sooner or later, one of those friends would have been the victim of their leader's choices. So, now, how do you feel about that attack?"

Mara huffed as she smiled at her Weyrleader. "I made some mistakes, but Landing is free of three robbers, so I suppose it worked out favorably."

F'lar nodded and smiled. "Dragonriders are in a unique position to protect the citizens of Pern on the land as well as in the skies. Our lifelong physical training for the benefit of our dragons, and our vows to protect all of Pern, incite us to protect in any circumstance. And our enviable connection to our dragons sometimes makes us targets as well. I'm not at all comfortable with some people's idea that we should act as a police force after Thread, but I think we will always be protectors, and therefore, should always be prepared to protect in whatever capacity is required.

"You did well this day, Mara. Inattention may have put you in the situation, but your training provided a suitable resolution. Now, you just need to remember that you did not kill anyone! When anyone forces a dragonrider into a fight, they are gambling against very strong odds."

"Yes, sir." An old worry resurfaced in Mara's mind. "Umm, sir? Do you usually need to spend so much time with other brown riders?"

F'lar chuckled. "I try to spend time with each of Benden's riders. But I do spend more time with brown and bronze riders. They tend to be the leaders within the wings, and I like to be sure they possess the right mindset."

'The right mindset' thought Mara. So they need to know the rules, be able to make good decisions, and be able to defend themselves and those they lead. The last part had been extremely difficult for Mara and she wondered if others ever had so much trouble, but how could she ask?

A slow smile spread across the Weyrleader's face. "Landing has been hosting a multitude of 'discussions' in the last few Turns. You should check with the college next time you visit." When she looked confused, he elaborated. "Lessa and I have been attending a series dealing with gender differences. You might find those discussions quite enlightening."

Mara rolled her eyes. "Women are supposed to bear and tend the children and the home, and men are supposed to build larger Holds or at the very least provide food and protection to the women and children. Is that what they discuss?"

F'lar laughed. "These discussions have more to do with mental differences." He pointed at his temple. "Men tend to resolve difficult issues with muscle, and women tend to prefer less physical solutions, among other things."

Mara's eyes lit up. "So they're discussing psychological differences? That would be interesting!"

"The next discussion is scheduled for three days from now. Perhaps I'll assign you to help transport some of the lower caverns people."

"Is that appropriate while I'm being punished, sir?"

With a mischievous grin, F'lar said, "Most of the brown and bronze riders will think so."

Mara tried to not laugh and just nodded her head. "I'd like that, sir."

"Good. Now, tell me how you feel about 'timing'."

"Hmm. I think 'timing' is a valuable, but dangerous, tool that should be used only when absolutely necessary."

"Good answer, but I asked how you feel about it."

"Oh, well. I feel confused, and disoriented, and a little sick to my stomach, and I wonder how anyone could do this voluntarily, or for any length of time." A raised eyebrow prompted an addendum. "Though, I would voluntarily 'time it' if necessary, of course."

F'lar laughed, and watched as she blinked her eyes and then shook her head.

"Whoa! I think we just left Landing. I feel almost normal again."

"Almost?"

Mara shrugged. "A little tired. More than a little hungry; I guess that's pretty normal."

F'lar slapped a hand on the table as he stood. "It's been an exceptionally long day for you, rider. And Mnementh informs me that the evening meal is ready. I suggest you rest for your watch this night." He walked to the door and turned to see Mara straightening the table. "Leave that. You'll be back in the morning." When she nodded and moved away from the table, he added, "How's your revised paper coming along?"

"Umm, I haven't had much time to work on it, sir."

"Mmm. Middle night watch is the slowest, least demanding watch of the day. As long as Klamath stays alert, you are free to read or write or . . . whatever. Just don't let anyone else catch you."

"Ahh, thank you, sir. I should be able to finish that paper this night, then."

"Good. I'm looking forward to reading it."

Lessa joined them as they entered the bowl headed toward the dining hall. She slipped an arm around F'lar's waist as he slid an arm over her shoulders. She seemed quite pleased that Mara was feeling herself again.

Normond landed nearby in a flurry of summer dried sand. G'raden slid gracefully off his back, slapped him on the shoulder, and the dragon launched back into the air.

The two sets of weyrmates separated as they entered the hall, the Weyrleaders walking to their raised table, and the riders walking to the serving tables.

Mara ate far more than she should prior to sleeping, and excused herself from the 'brothers' questions to 'prepare for her watch'.

She slept soundly, except for one memory dream of the attack, but when G'raden joined her several candle-marks later, she rolled into his arms and sank into a deep, dreamless sleep until Klamath roused her.

She finished her paper on the subject of killing on watch duty that night, and as she was wishing she'd brought that 'romance novel', Klamath informed her that Canth was coming.

F'nor asked her all about the attack the previous day, delving into each detail, and scolding her for not wearing her knives. When she expressed some confusion about how to wear knives on Landing style clothing, as boots were not part of the style, he looked her up and down and declared that they would figure out something. He left shortly before the next watch rider arrived.

When Klamath and Mara landed on their weyr ledge, they found that Normond was not inside the weyr. Klamath, after riding straps were removed, decided to enjoy the rising of Rukbat from the high ridges. Mara walked further into the weyr feeling rather good, considering all that happened the previous day.

She pulled the dragon hanging aside carefully, trying to avoid waking G'raden. When she found the bed to be empty, she pulled it back further and found the big man sitting at the table engrossed in reading, only minimally dressed. She let a boot scuff the rock floor, and smiled when he jumped.

G'raden's somewhat embarrassed shock quickly turned to amused anticipation. He held a hand out and led her to a seat on his bare lap. "Read this." He pointed to the book he had been reading, and then to a particular paragraph. "Start here."

Mara, grinning at the thoughts she was hearing, began reading. She laughed out loud when she quickly realized this was 'that romance novel', but kept reading even as G'raden's hands kneaded her thighs. The scene was a rather improbable encounter between a man and a woman in something called a 'pickup truck'. The climax of the scene caused Mara to wiggle a bit as G'raden tried to suppress laughter. "How is that possible?" she asked as she turned to face his blushing grin. "It sounds a bit . . . uncomfortable."

"Shall we test that assumption?" He had already managed to unfasten her jacket, and slid it off her shoulders.

Mara linked her fingers behind his neck and leaned away enough to aid his further disrobing. "We don't have a 'pickup truck'."

"We'll make do."

The weyrmates, laughing and giggling, tried to recreate the scene from the novel. After a few leg cramps, they quickly decided that either the author didn't know what she was writing about, or the pickup truck was of vital importance. They did, however, rewrite the scene to their mutual satisfaction, and eventually fell asleep in each other's arms.

At morning meal, Mara presented her revised paper on killing to Weyrleader F'lar and stood stock still waiting for his response.

"Well done, rider," accompanied by a nod was F'lar's only response before turning back to his meal.

Still being in 'punished rider' mode, Mara nodded at both Weyrleaders, even though neither were looking at her, turned sharply, and joined her friends for the meal.

* * *

Three days after the 'timing' experience, Mara was included in the trip to Landing for the discussion on gender differences. She was thrilled to see that G'raden was one of the bronze riders who volunteered to escort non-riders. G'regg's presence was a puzzle though; she had been told he volunteered, but he seemed rather distraught over 'sitting through such talk'. Mara chuckled at his act.

Mara was rather dismayed at being almost unanimously selected to be the subject of this day's 'psychological profile', but was assured by the facilitator that she would not be subjected to such scrutiny in future discussions. Most participants had been fascinated at the prospect of learning more about Pern's first female brown rider. A few attempted to take over the conversation with baseless accusatory assumptions, but the very capable facilitator, with eager help from other participants, deftly returned to more appropriate discussion.

F'lar and Lessa sat quietly, somewhat proud of their brown rider, and very glad that she knew when and how to avoid some very personal and probing questions from the group. She even avoided mentioning her 'hearing' abilities when asked about any special talents she might have. She did however point out that everyone has some special talent – the trick, she believed, was to discover what that particular talent entailed.

Mara was fascinated by some of the questions they asked about her history, her parents, and her thoughts and opinions on various subjects. She found it interesting that so many people were actually taking notes, and wished she could review some of them.

The second half of the discussion turned to analysis of the information obtained during the initial questioning phase. Mara was surprised at the clinical approach of most of the participants, and quite relieved that she wasn't being judged at all, except by the few quickly silenced hard heads. The majority of the group seemed to agree that her first six turns of generally accepted 'good parenting' had helped her immensely in difficult times since, and contributed significantly to her overall 'good attitude' to this day. They also decided that the same 'good parenting', and more turns than normal of strong character building, had probably contributed to brown Klamath's choosing her as a life partner.

At the end of the two candle-mark discussion, the facilitator informed the visitors that the next meeting would return to the usual subjects. He, and several participants, thanked Mara for her participation and said he hoped she would return. After pointing out a stack of printed booklets with excerpts from various psychology resources dealing with what was to have been this day's topic, and wishing everyone a wonderful seven-day, he quickly made his way to Pern's first female brown rider.

"I do hope we haven't embarrassed you, Lady Mara." The elderly man's apologetic smile was comforting.

Mara almost laughed. "I've been through far worse, sir."

"I can imagine! Please rest assured that this is not the usual course of these discussions. It's just so rare we have someone so . . . famous in our presence. You might be comforted to know that both Weyrleader F'lar and Weyrwoman Lessa have also subjected themselves to these rather amateurish, but highly educational profiles, as have a few holders and craft masters, and people from all corners of Pern. We try to profile someone each meeting, but it usually only takes up the first hour of the discussion."

With sparkling grayish-green eyes, the man dug into a hide bag hanging by a strap over his shoulder, and pulled out a few more booklets. "Wingleader G'raden informed me at a previous meeting that you are interested in psychology, Lady Mara, so perhaps you would like to have some of these earlier information packets. They each contain listings of references, both books and Aivas searches; suggested reading, if you will, for persons more interested in the subject."

Mara took the offered booklets with genuine delight. "Thank you!"

"Which area of psychology most interests you, Lady Mara?"

"I don't know all the terminology, but I'm interested in what motivates people to react so differently to similar situations."

"To what end?" Her apparent confusion prompted, "Why are you interested in motivations?"

"It seems to me that understanding people's motivation might help to resolve or even eliminate many conflicts."

"Oh, excellent!" He took back the booklets she still held, flipped through, picked out the one he was looking for, and opened it. He took a carbon stick from a pocket stitched to the front of his tunic and circled the name of one of the references. "This would be an excellent book to get you started in the study of motivations. The Library has several copies. Please feel free to contact me with any questions you might have, and, do pick up one of our course listings before you leave Landing. We offer various psychology classes and open discussions from time to time."

Mara was overcome by the man's contagious exuberance, finding it difficult to say anything between his quick words. As she opened her mouth to say how much she would like to come back, he placed the booklets in her left hand and grabbed her right hand in a firm handshake, and beat her to the first word.

"I do hope to see more of you, Lady Mara! I believe a firm understanding of human psychology will be of vital importance in coming years." He let go of her hand and looked a bit anxious. "Please excuse me, Brown Rider. I have a class in a few minutes." And with that he disappeared into the crowd.

Mara stared at the man's retreating back. A hand on her shoulder caused her to look aside. F'lar, with Lessa at his side, grinned. "Whoa!" said Mara. "Is he always so excited?"

F'lar laughed. "Journeyman Harper Lindan is in his glory at Landing. And he, like others here, is extremely excited about Pern's future."

Something in his eyes prompted an impulsive question. "Aren't you, sir?"

F'lar smiled, but his eyes seemed rather haunted. "I am excited about Pern's future, and, like Harper Lindan, I believe that understanding human behaviors will be of vital importance for all leaders if we hope to avoid . . . problems."

Mara nodded and forced a smile, hoping to be able to discuss possible problems with her Weyrleader in the near future. She and G'raden had delved into some possibilities, but F'lar's knowledge and experience would probably enlighten quite a few people. As such a discussion would be inappropriate at this time though, she chose a less serious topic. "May I volunteer in advance to help transport Weyr personnel to future discussions?"

"So noted!" declared Lessa with a smile. "But for now, we'd better get to the Library before all the references are gone."

Mara and G'raden, who had been standing nearby, took up escort positions behind their Weyrleaders as they walked to the Library. Mara was surprised at the crowd – almost everyone from the discussion was in the psychology section of the Library.

Lenarra seemed to be stationed at a table nearby, and Benden personnel all brought the books they found to her before checking them out at the front desk. Lenarra kept a list of the books and who found them. Benden Weyr would only check out one of each reference and Lenarra would keep track of who had which book and who wanted to see it later.

At F'lar's prompting (he reminded her that she would have time), Mara also found the book Harper Lindan suggested. She showed it to Lenarra, who told her that it was from a list several months old. Lenarra, feeling suddenly embarrassed at being a little short and possibly insulting to the brown rider, did say that she would find out if anyone else still wanted to read it as she wrote down the title. Mara didn't quite understand the weyrwoman's embarrassment, since she had been quite busy training until just recently, and certainly didn't feel at all embarrassed about being behind in this weyr project. She would definitely do her best to catch up, though.

When Benden Weyr's personnel had congregated outside the Library, F'lar and Lessa surprised everyone with a suggestion that they visit the baker's shop to sample his peetsa. The group of approximately thirty people meandered their way to the shopping block and was only slightly surprised to find the Weyr's Second Baker already present. He had been helping the slightly overwhelmed baker to prepare for the crowd, and in the process had learned a great deal about peetsa making.

Benden's personnel were treated to a variety of much larger peetsas, most with different meats and cheeses, some with no meat, and some with a cheese based sauce rather than the vegetable based sauce Mara had taken to the Weyr earlier. The response was so tremendous, after conferring with the Weyr's baker and Landing's baker, F'lar, with Lessa's approval, asked the baker how long it would take him to make one hundred peetsas. The shocked baker conferred with his equally shocked wife and assistant, and they determined that one hundred peetsas could be made prior to the Weyr's evening meal.

The next subject of concern, of course, was how to deliver so many peetsa to Benden Weyr. Lessa, F'lar, and the Bronze riders all met to discuss the problem. The baker did have boxes for his peetsas which his customers could use for easy transport to their homes in Landing. The riders agreed that rescue gurneys, of which the Weyr had several for various rescue operations, could be outfitted with tarps and ropes to secure the boxes. The peetsa would have to be re-warmed after a trip _between_, but the Weyr's baker assured Lessa that his ovens could handle the job, but asked for approval to discuss racks for use inside the ovens with the Weyr Smith.

Logistics settled, F'lar paid Landing's peetsa baker for both the meal they had just enjoyed and the meal to be picked up in several candle-marks.

As the group left the shopping block, Mara overheard G'regg talking to G'raden.

"Peetsa delivery might be a good venture for someone after Thread," said G'regg.

"Any kind of delivery might be a lucrative venture after Thread," replied G'raden with a grin.

Peetsa night at Benden Weyr was a great success. One hundred peetsas weren't near enough to fill the bellies of all personnel, but the cooks and bakers prepared plenty of vegetable dishes and sweet breads to complement the meal. Ale and wine, in limited quantities, were also served since no Thread was anticipated the next day.

Mara discovered that while peetsa was a wonderful meal, it should not be eaten too close to sleep time. She had some very vivid dreams that evening, most dealing with variations of the incident a few days earlier at Landing. G'raden's presence later though, quieted the dreams.

That night on watch duty, Mara began reading the book recommended by Harper Lindan. Klamath complained mildly about her silence, so she began reading in a way that he would also hear. This appeased the big brown, but Mara soon found herself consumed in discussions of human behavior with her draconic life mate.

_Dragons are not raised by their parents,_ interjected Klamath at one point. He maintained his watchful vigilance even as he spoke.

_No, love. _Mara wondered if she was hearing remorse, or just contemplation. _Dragons are raised by people who are trained and helped to provide the very best care possible._

_Not all dragons are given proper care._

_No, my love, they aren't. What's bothering you about this, Klamath?_

_Tagamarth was not given proper care._

_No, dear, but he's getting proper care now._

_Will he be alright? Or will he have problems like people do?_

_Dragons have a pretty short memory, Klamath. I think in time, Tagamarth will forget all about his poor care and will only remember the wonderful loving care he is getting now._

_Will he learn to trust his rider?_

_In time. His rider needs to forget the past too though. And then they will both be able to trust each other._

_How can we help them?_

Mara nearly laughed with relief at her loving brown's concern. _I think being friends will be most helpful. They both need someone to talk to, so we can listen and offer advice if they ask for it._

Klamath took some time thinking about this, but finally turned beautiful swirling blue eyes to his rider. _I am very lucky to have such a beautiful and loving rider._

Tears in her own eyes, Mara responded. _And I am very lucky to have such a loving and handsome and brave brown dragon, Klamath._

Mara didn't read anymore that night, choosing instead to discuss far more important matters with the love of her life. They talked about the stars crossing the sky, and the cooling breeze, and the strap that needed to be patched, and the beasts in the pens at the other end of the bowl, and, of course, about flying until they were relieved. On later watches, Mara would only read for a short time. Their waking time together, she reasoned, was far too brief, and reading could wait until he was busy sleeping or talking with other dragons.

The remainder of the month went quite smoothly with no notable incidents. Mara worked in Records while Klamath enjoyed the summer sun and chatted with his draconic friends, or the pair flew mandatory practice sessions or Thread. They were enlisted to transport Weyr personnel to subsequent discussions at Landing, and of course stood middle night watch. Watch duty became Mara's 'special' time with Klamath, and the three candle-marks afterward were split between her dragon and her weyrmate, depending on various circumstances.

Halfway through the punishment month, F'lar asked about her report on timing. Mara informed him that it was not ready, but she tested the index and read ahead to finish it within a couple of days. F'lar was so impressed with the report that he presented a shorter version at a full-Weyr meeting, and handed it over to Weyrlingmaster L'ret, at his request, for incorporation into weyrling training.

On her last day on Records duty, Mara was a bit distressed that she still had about fifty turns of Records left to read. Lessa, though, gave her permission to finish at her leisure.

Riders of all rank made a big fuss the next day about congratulating her on her newfound freedom. Mara went along with the playful mood, but quickly realized that she would miss both the informative Records room and the peaceful middle night watches.

The transition back to her normal duties was easier than she expected, and she was thrilled to find extra time for reading, stitching, and working in private on the rug she hoped to gift to G'raden. He still hadn't seen the fabrics she had chosen, and she teased him mercilessly with the orange and yellow wrapping fabric, even resorting to ripping it into strips in his presence. She found a nice hiding place for the loom with the actual rug behind the head board of their big bed.

* * *

'8.25.2555 – Benden Weyr'

'Nothing remarkable happened this day, except that G'raden found another romance novel at Landing and we had fun recreating one of the scenes. He's like a little boy when he discovers something new, but he's certainly not a little boy when we play with his discoveries!'

'While G'raden went to Fort Hold to meet Master Oldive and his chiropractic students, I spent some time in Records. The twenty turns leading up to this pass went rather quickly. Jora didn't seem to take her duties very seriously. Lessa, however, took her duties very seriously, but her handwriting indicated she must have been pretty angry at that time. Maybe I should ask her about it some time. Maybe not.'

'Klamath and I took a long flight up over the Snowy Wastes after midday meal. Next time, I need to remember my warmer flying gear.'

'The kitchen staff served peetsa for evening meal. F'lar has declared that we should have a peetsa night at least twice each month. No one has complained, though some think it should be far more frequent.'

'I found time to work on the rug while G'raden spent time with G'regg and B'nor, doing what I don't know. I'm wishing I could work on it in the evening while he reads, but keeping the secret of its colors is just too much fun. Surely, I can finish it before Turnover, and then I can make more in his presence.'

'This was a remarkably unremarkable day, and I absolutely loved it.'


	15. Aftermath

Three months later:

Bronze rider B'rand, on Tagamarth's back, landed on the ledge to bronze rider G'regg's weyr. The outer weyr was empty, the resident dragon apparently enjoying the late fall sunset. B'rand dismounted and patted his life-mate affectionately before walking further into the weyr.

"Is anyone here?" he called cautiously.

The hide curtain at the other end moved to reveal glow lights in the rider's weyr. "Back here, weyrling."

B'rand moved cautiously toward the smaller weyr, not out of fear of harm, but out of fear of . . . something. This rider and his 'brothers' were continually surprising him with playful tricks, testing his newfound lack of fear to its very limits. He smiled remembering some of their tricks and wondered what they were up to now.

After a courage restoring deep breath, he moved the curtain aside and stepped inside. "Weyrlingmaster L'ret said you could use my help, sir?" His face scrunched as he took in the sight before him.

Three bronze riders and a brown rider sat around a small table with neatly stacked little squares of multi-colored fabric covering the top. Each square was no wider than a finger joint. Each rider had a stack of squares in front of them and seemed to be stitching them together into long strips. No one looked at him until G'regg finally spoke.

"Sit down, boy. You know how to stitch, don't you?"

The young bronze rider seemed to move in slow motion as he did as instructed, puzzlement marring his boyish features. "Yes, sir. I've stitched hide, but never fabric. That's woman's . . ." He stopped and looked shocked at what he had almost said.

"Woman's work? Is that what you were going to say, boy?" G'regg glared sternly at the young man.

The brown rider placed her work on the table with a loud thud. "I told you I don't do woman's work, G'regg!" She stood and announced "I'm leaving. I have real work to do!"

G'raden wrapped an arm around Mara's waist and pulled her onto his lap. "Sit down, woman!"

G'regg glared at Mara. "This is not woman's work! This is the work of an artiste." He placed exaggerated emphasis on the last word, elongating the 'ee' sound and distinctly articulating the 's' and the 't'.

Mara glared right back as she moved back into her own chair. "Does that make us fellow artistes?" She used the same pronunciation he had.

B'nor chuckled. "We're just stitchers."

"Highly appreciated stitchers!" added G'regg.

"G'regg is the artist on this one." B'nor motioned to all the scraps stacked on the table.

"What's the matter, boy?" G'regg laid down the strip he was working on and grinned.

B'rand's eyes were wide and he had to raise his jaw in order to speak. "Nothing, sir."

G'regg scooted his chair closer to B'rand's and put a hand on his shoulder. "Let me show you how this works, then." He pulled a stack of squares toward B'rand. "Take one of these. Remember where it came from. When you're done, you'll fold the strip and put it right back where it came from. All right?"

B'rand nodded, still wide eyed.

G'regg picked up a threaded metal needle and ran the thread through his thick fingers. "Who knotted this? The boy's gotta learn all of it!"

G'raden nearly growled. "He'll learn quick enough. I just gave him a little head start."

"Fine." G'regg peeled the top square from the stack and slowly flipped it over. "You take the top piece, flip it this way. See the carbon line? Pick up the next piece, match the edges, and stitch along the line, but no further." He stitched the two pieces together as B'rand alternately watched his hands and his concentrating face. "Then, you use your thumb nail to crease it down tight and cut the thread." He did so with his belt knife, laid the knife within B'rand's reach, and slowly flipped the already pieced squares just so. "Then you press it this way." He used his thumb nail to crease the seam open. "You flip the strip like this, put it down like this, and knot the thread." He put the pieces down and showed the boy how to tie a knot in the fine thread. "Then you pick up the next one, and do it all over again. Got it?"

The young bronze rider nodded slowly. "I think so, sir."

"Good. You try it, then." He held out the threaded needle. "Be careful with this. It's sharp and hard to come by."

"Yes, sir." B'rand took the needle, ran the thread through his fingers just as G'regg had done and laid it down carefully. He picked up the pieced squares just as carefully, finding the carbon line of the second piece, peeled off the next piece and lined it up.

"Good. Now flip it to be sure the new line is where it belongs." B'rand did as told and nodded. "Good. Now stitch, boy."

G'regg, an arm across the boy's shoulders and his head nearly resting on one shoulder, watched carefully as B'rand worked his first line of stitching. He commented, corrected and complimented the boy along the way. When the thread had been cut and the needle placed on the table, G'regg reached forward and gently took the pieces from B'rand's hands. "Let me see that, boy. Old eyes, ya know?"

B'nor interrupted. "You're no older than me, and I see just fine!"

"Me too!" declared G'raden.

Mara added her opinion. "Well, I'm younger than you three, and I have to put the stitching just so to keep my eyes from hurting."

"Look at this." G'regg passed the three pieces across B'rand's chest to G'raden.

G'raden carefully took the pieces and studied them himself. "Your stitches are almost as small as Mara's." He nodded appreciation at a now smiling B'rand and handed the work to his weyrmate.

Mara studied the pieces and frowned. "Shells, B'rand! You're gonna make me look bad." The boy chuckled as she handed the small strip to B'nor.

"Not bad!" said B'nor. "But will your stitches still be this small at the end of this evening?" He passed the pieces back to G'regg with a circling motion over the table full of stacked fabric squares.

Conversation died as B'rand worked a few more pieces onto his strip, G'regg watching and counseling. After G'regg picked up his own strip and began stitching again, the room was silent for quite a while.

"Goobef!" declared G'regg. He was answered by three annoyed 'ouch's and one boyish embarrassed giggle.

"Goobee." B'rand blushed.

"No! Goobef was Felessan's little stuffed dragon!" G'regg put down his stitching and beamed with delight at this recalled memory.

"That's right!" B'nor smiled at the memory. "He carried that wherhide dragon around for years, didn't he?"

G'regg grinned. "F'lar was so proud of his little dragonrider!"

"Till someone gave the boy oil that dyed it green." G'raden grinned at G'regg.

"Oh, the look on F'lar and Lessa's faces!" G'regg laughed.

"Was it worth the price?" asked G'raden.

"I'd gladly clean every latrine in this weyr again to see those looks anew."

"You cleaned them all twice, didn't you?" B'nor chuckled.

"At least twice." Now G'regg frowned slightly. "It took a couple of sevendays for the new oil to change the green to bronze."

G'raden explained to B'rand. "F'lar had the poor boy oiling his little dragon three, four times a day until the color changed."

"I think that's when Felessan stopped carrying it around" B'nor added.

"He really liked that pretty shade of green!" G'raden grinned at the young bronze rider as the others laughed.

"Think F'lar will ever forgive you for that little prank?" asked B'nor.

"He made me a wingleader!"

"Of the Tired, Retired, and Recuperating Clean-Up Wing!" G'raden joked.

"Yeah, well, someone has to lead even them." G'regg shrugged his shoulders at B'rand as everyone at the table laughed.

B'rand had learned earlier that Wingleader G'regg's position was certainly nothing to be ashamed of. He was responsible for evaluating a constantly changing group of riders who were either on their way up to the fighting wings, or on their way down to retired status. He watched them constantly and tested them using various methods, both in the air and on the ground. B'rand had seen the bronze rider in a new light, and wondered if he might one day be allowed to fly with Wingleader G'regg for at least a short while.

By the end of the evening, all the stacks of fabric had been replaced by folded strips. B'nor helped G'regg spread a cloth over the table and both placed rocks around the edges and a few in the center.

"Come back tomorrow evening, boy. I'll teach you another stitching technique. Now, we gotta stitch all these strips together."

B'rand stared at the table for a few heartbeats before looking puzzled at G'regg. "Why? Sir?"

B'nor patted G'regg on the shoulder. "I don't think he understands the goal, brother."

G'raden grinned at the boy. "We're makin' a quilt, B'rand."

B'rand still looked puzzled. "I've seen lots of really nice quilts, sir, but why are you using such small pieces?"

Mara grinned. "He doesn't understand your goal, G'regg!"

"You don't?"

"No, sir."

"Hmph! Help me with this, brother." G'regg opened a large chest at the foot of his bed. On the top was a folded quilt made with the same tiny pieces of multicolored fabric.

B'nor picked up one end while G'regg picked up the other. They both walked toward the head of the bed on either side. They laid the folded quilt on the pillow, unfolded very carefully, but only partially until each found the corners they were looking for. After sharing glances, G'regg nodded decisively, and both raised their corners high above the bed to reveal the entire quilt.

"Shells!" declared G'regg. "This one's supposed to be a surprise! You can't tell anyone about this, B'rand. Please?"

B'rand nodded agreement. His puzzlement quickly turned to amazement as he studied the quilt hanging over bronze rider G'regg's bed. The little multi-colored squares, when placed just so, created a fabric picture.

"Can you tell what it is, B'rand?" Mara put a hand on his shoulder.

"Anyone could see who that is. That's F'lar and Lessa with Mnementh and Ramoth behind them. And that's Benden Weyr from the road. That's amazing! Is that the Red Star?"

G'regg puffed up with pride and turned to B'nor. "I told you others would see it!"

B'nor closed his eyes and bowed his head. "I sincerely apologize for ever doubting you, brother."

B'rand laughed. "That's amazing!" He turned toward the table. "What's this one?"

The two quilt holders grinned at each other. G'regg finally declared "That's a surprise, too. You come back tomorrow evening, and when we get all the stitching done, you'll see." His grin was that of a little boy with a big secret.

* * *

_1.1.2556 – Benden Weyr_

_My handsome bronze rider loved the necklace I gave him. He even unfastened the collar of his tunic so that everyone could see it. Oh, he looked so handsome, and even proud! The necklace is a perfect match for my perfect, loving weyrmate. That cunning Master Smith; how intuitive of him to hold it for me until my next visit to Landing._

_I'm sure I cried when G'raden gifted me with this lovely green and blue necklace. I never knew how precious bits of metal and stone could be. I suppose it's the underlying message that makes me feel so loved, and so safe. Oh, how I love that sweet man!_

_G'regg and B'nor surprised the entire Weyr at this evening's Turnover celebration. Once everyone was seated for the evening meal, they walked onto the raised platform behind F'lar and Lessa (much to their surprise) and, using small step ladders, hung G'regg's quilt on already placed pegs. Judging from the excitement at the weyrling's table, I would guess they helped with the pegs. Showmen that they are, G'regg and B'nor waited for everyone's attention, including F'lar and Lessa, before allowing the quilt to unfold, revealing G'regg's magnificent artistry. When F'lar and Lessa looked confused, being too close to see the full effect, G'regg and B'nor escorted them, in a most formal manner, out into the dining hall. Lessa was so thrilled with their work, she actually kissed them both. I think she even cried just a bit, before berating them for disrupting the meal. Didn't bother G'regg and B'nor, though!_

_The bigger surprise, for G'raden and me at least, was what we found when we returned to our weyr. Now, we know why G'regg and B'nor were so late to dinner. The quilt B'rand helped with – the one we never saw again after that first evening of stitching – now hangs over our bed. G'regg and B'nor and B'rand and probably quite a few people from the lower caverns, have gifted us with a beautiful quilt very similar to our Weyrleader's, except that we are the subjects, along with beautiful Normond and Klamath. Their coloring is perfect, right down to the scars they each still carry. The expression on G'raden's face is so truly perfect; cheerful and strong, kind and proud, and so full of love. I'm not sure who G'regg talked into posing as me though; she's far prettier than me, and has haunted eyes. But the quilt is beautiful otherwise. How can I ever repay G'regg and all the others for such a wonderful gift?_

_G'raden was thrilled with the rug I left near his side of the bed. He spent quite a bit of time standing and walking in place on it in his bare feet. Now he wants to know when the next one will be done, so we'll have a matched set. That kind fabric merchant in Landing doubled what I paid for, so I should be able to finish a second rug in a very short time now that G'raden knows it won't be orange and yellow._

_Only thirteen turns of Thread left! I hope those turns go as well as the last two. Hopefully even better!_

* * *

Well, that's it for this little part of Mara's Story.

I'll be returning to the original story now, and will try to avoid these little future episodes - it's just too hard to go back and forth between times.

Hope you enjoyed it. Please review!


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